


from the belly of the deepest love

by maharlika



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anti-Imperialism, Asgard Critical, Fake Marriage, Fake Relationship, Fealty Kink, Fix-It, Fluff and Smut, Like really slow, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Original Character(s), Politics, Post-Ragnarok, Revolution, Sibling Incest, Slow Burn, slight Breeding Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:42:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 34,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21539212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maharlika/pseuds/maharlika
Summary: In an attempt to make an inconspicuous supply run, Thor and Loki end up fighting in trial by combat, escaping a death sentence, and getting embroiled in a revolution.Oh, and they have to pretend to be married the whole time.A Post-Ragnarok fake marriage fic.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 348
Kudos: 686
Collections: Thorki Big Bang 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Thorki Big Bang 2019!
> 
> Many thanks to Megan, for the amazing beta. To April and Julia, for graciously enduring the fic spaghetti I threw at their faces.
> 
> To Raven and Elsa, for being the best mods to run this challenge with. 
> 
> To Ceci, for the gorgeous, incredible art, which you can see in full [here](https://matador-cocktail.dreamwidth.org/file/8835.jpg). It was a pleasure to work with you!
> 
> To Elsa, my love, for reading this fic about a dozen times and reassuring me the whole way. 
> 
> And a huge thank you to everyone who participated in the Big Bang this year! We did it, folks!

_Thor’s vision was filled with blue light. All around him, Havalia burned._

_It was a struggle to even raise his face from the ground, but he had to move. Every part of him ached and throbbed._

_If he could not walk, he would crawl._

_His fingers dug into the dirt, desperate._

_He had to get to Loki._

_He had to tell him._

_Had to tell him—_

\--

The red light on the console had been going off for about a week now, by Thor’s estimation. 

Eventually, Banner pulled out a manual from somewhere—Thor didn’t want to know where or how, it looked stained with all sorts of things—and figured out the problem by handing it to Brunnhilde, who could read Sakaarian. 

Three blinking lights in quick succession, then a lull, then the lights again. The ship was running out of fuel. Or, as the manual said, Brunnhilde relaying in a monotone, “The party’s almost over, pack up and head home.”

If only “home” hadn’t been destroyed.

It had been a month since they—since Thor—had destroyed Asgard. He had been lost those first few days after the fact, going through the motions of what was expected from him. In the quiet moments, he still couldn’t help but wonder if there could have been another way. Those thoughts often led down dark paths, and so Thor kept himself occupied. Kept himself in motion. Which was difficult to do when their ship was almost literally dead in the water. 

They had to come up with a plan. 

“So,” Thor said. “What’s the plan? I need suggestions.” He and his council were gathered in his bedroom, which was the largest room in the ship. He supposed the Grandmaster had no need for meeting rooms. 

Said council, being comprised of Brunnhilde, Heimdall, Eir, Tyr and a missing Loki, shuffled uneasily in the low chairs they sat on, around Thor’s squat, unused coffee table. There were no other chairs in the ship aside from those in the Dining Hall. Thor supposed the Grandmaster had no need for chairs on the ship either, though there were many, many beds. 

“The closest planet is Rivan,” Eir said, bringing up a projection on her holo-pad. 

“Not exactly a planet though is it?” Brunnhilde said, squinting at the round, pockmarked rock.

“It’s a moon, technically,” said Tyr. “Though it doesn’t orbit quite so willingly around its planet. Elari keeps the moon in orbit with enhanced artificial gravity, and its people in line with a brutal military.”

“As it does with twenty-two other moons,” Heimdall said. 

“So it’s a middling backwater moon with ties to a larger imperial force,” said Brunnhilde, sitting back.

“It’s not a backwater,” Eir said, zooming in on the projection of the planet. Spires and tall buildings were magnified in the image, showing a shining, busy metropolis.

“But still swarming with imperial military,” Brunnhilde said.

“The system hasn’t had any conflict since the moons were federated,” Eir said.

“What she means is, Elari isn’t hostile,” Thor said, giving in to the urge to rub a hand across his face. 

“Oh, the way Asgard wasn’t hostile, you mean?” Brunnhilde said, smiling incredulously. 

Thor was too tired to let that one hurt too much, but it did sting. In his mind’s eye, he held Asgard up as a shining, golden city. Beloved, but too bright to truly be flawless. Yet there were some things Thor was unwilling to tarnish, even if they were just memories.

“Rivan is the best choice we have,” Tyr said. “It’s peaceful and prosperous. You can be in and out in a day.”

“Anything else I should know about this moon?” Thor asked.

“Seems like a tourist trap,” said Brunnhilde, flipping through her holo-pad. “Oooh. Looks like hot springs, mostly. And they have a thing for weddings?”

“The culture does seem obsessed with it,” Eir said, eyes growing wide as she read further. “Oh my.”

Tyr read dryly off his holo-pad, “There has perhaps never been a culture that tended so wildly towards wedlock and all its concomitant festivities. The people of Rivan consider matrimony sacred, and much is made of public bedding ceremonies, consummated as an offering to the Goddess.” 

“Well,” Brunnhilde said after a pause, “seems like they’ll be fairly occupied. If you catch my drift.”

“Should be simple enough to go around unnoticed,” Heimdall said. Then had to add, “If you can keep from finding a bride on the planet. Your majesty.”

“There’s an idea,” Tyr chuckled. 

“Okay, I think it’s time to—” Thor said.

“Which reminds me that I _must_ speak to you about starting repopulation efforts, sire,” Eir said earnestly.

“Council dismissed,” Thor said. “Please.”

Brunnhilde laughed as she stood up. “I’ll get the Commodore ready. Excuse me, majesty.” 

Tyr, Heimdall and Eir all bowed at the waist, fists on their chests, before leaving the room after her. 

Thor let his head thump against the back of his armchair. As king, his father never would have been spoken to in such a way, but he was not his father. It was a good thing that his people were at ease with him, he reminded himself. There was no need here for pomp and circumstance, for the gaudiness that had decorated the Aesir Court. 

Thor was not his father, and was never going to be. It felt strange, still, to take comfort in that fact. Felt almost like he was insulting his father’s memory, but Thor had decided early on in this journey that, for once, the old man could take an insult. There was so little Thor could hold sacred now, with the foundations of his entire life ripped from beneath him. 

As was common in these moments, Thor found his mind wandering into the tangled, jagged edges of Asgard’s destruction. By his hand, by his own hand. The truth of it throbbed, beating in time with his heart. 

With a sigh, Thor stood up, waving the memory away. There was one more matter at hand. The question of an absent brother.

In the month since they had left the smoldering wreck of their home behind, Loki had been little more than a flitting presence in the corner of Thor’s good eye. Thor saw him sometimes with Brunnhilde, the two of them sharing libations. Once, he’d seen him surrounded by a gaggle of children, all clamoring for his attention. He didn’t seem to make an effort to avoid Thor, but Thor barely saw him. It was as if he was a ghost on the ship. Thor wondered what he did in his free time. He seemed to be staying out of trouble, which was enough for Thor to refrain from seeking him out. 

But this plan required a certain level of deceit and disguise. If there was anyone whose advice Thor would need, it was his wayward brother’s.

\--

Thor found him in his room, of all places. For the first time in as long as Thor could remember, Loki was in the first place he had attempted to seek him out. It had been Loki’s habit, when they were children, to hide whenever he had been hurt. An ill-spoken word from their father, insufficient attention from his brother, these had Loki disappearing for hours, even days, until the offending party, having been moved from annoyance to guilt, went looking for him. 

But Loki wasn’t hiding from Thor. Here he was, still, somehow. For some reason Thor could not bring himself to fathom. 

He stood swiftly as Thor entered, leaving behind his reclining pose and a book face-down on his bed, beside his pillow. The action struck Thor. It had been years since he’d gotten the chance to really consider his brother, but the movement was familiar. Had he always done as such, in Thor’s presence? 

It seemed almost like a taunt, the standing. As if Thor was not allowed to see him at ease. As if he had lost that privilege along with many others. Otherwise, it was deference, which stung in its own way.

“Brother,” Loki said, clasping his hands behind his back and lifting his chin. 

“Loki,” Thor said, already uneasy. But for the bed, Loki’s room was conspicuously bare, and small.

There were no windows.

“Did you figure out the ship’s problem?” Loki asked, standing straight and unmoving.

“It’s running out of fuel,” Thor said bluntly. “I need to go planet-side, make a supply run.”

“I see,” Loki said. “And you’ve come to me because…”

“I need someone with me,” Thor said. “And we need to be inconspicuous. Unnoticed. In and out in a day.” He paused before continuing, carefully, “You’re good at...that sort of thing.”

“At deception and lying, you mean?” Loki said. 

“If that’s what you would like to call it, then yes,” Thor said.

“It’s what _you_ would call it,” Loki said.

He smiled, then, and it looked strange, like a gash upon his mouth. It struck Thor all over again, that it had been years since he had last been on good terms with Loki. Maybe more. It had been one of the things he wondered about, after Loki’s fall. How long his brother had been a stranger to him. How Thor hadn’t realized until it was too late. A thousand years of brotherhood, reduced to this. Thor had no idea how to tread the often-tangled paths of Loki’s heart, his mind. 

_I’m here_ , Loki had said, and then he had all but disappeared. 

If it was meant to be a slight, maybe Thor deserved it.

“Will you come with me, then?” 

“If my king commands,” said Loki, staring at Thor as if in challenge.

“And if your brother asks?” Thor asked, pointedly. 

“Why not?” Loki shrugged, allowing the start of an argument to fall away. He turned away, the movement fluid. “Going planet-side for the day might be interesting. I’m feeling claustrophobic on this damned ship.”

No wonder, Thor thought, if he spent his days hiding in a windowless room. 

“Like the good old days,” Thor attempted.

Loki nodded, looking somewhere off to the side. He seemed to be pondering something.

“We might be lucky,” Loki said, and nodded again, as if he had come to a decision. “I heard this moon has hot springs. Perhaps we’ll even have a chance to visit while we’re there.” His lips quirked into a smile, more real than the first. “Maybe have a bath. Imagine that.”

A bath. Gods, that sounded lovely. They had been rationing water for the past two weeks, so only particle showers were allowed. Thor wanted nothing more than to sink into a hot bath and soak for a few hours. 

Maybe Loki was right. Maybe, for once, luck would be on their side.

\--

They had barely been on Rivan for an hour before Loki had a dozen blasters aimed at his head. 

“The criminal will stand down!” 

A group of soldiers in black armor were jammed into the side-street where he and Loki had been bargaining for fuel. The market was hot and loud, but the noise came to a standstill when the soldiers pulled out their weapons. 

Drenched in full sunlight, Thor squinted, confused. 

“For crimes against the Empire, the criminal will be taken to Elari for punishment.”

What were they talking about? Surely there was some mistake.

One man, old and grizzled, his black hair streaked with gray, stepped up from the group and rammed the butt of his blaster into Loki’s stomach. Thor flinched as Loki doubled over, falling to his knees. He waited for the glimmer of knives, for Loki to fight back, but he only bowed his head and coughed, rough.

So Thor held back the lightning sizzling through his fingers and took a deep breath.

“Wait,” Thor said, raising his arms, palms facing outwards. “What is his crime?”

“Theft,” said the soldier. “Stand back, civilian.”

“Theft?” Thor said. Theft. It wasn’t that serious, was it? It couldn’t be.

“And what is his punishment? If it’s a fine, we can pay it. We’re only here for supplies—”

“The punishment for his crime is death. Take him away.”

A loud buzzing noise filled Thor’s head. No. No. This wasn’t happening. He had only just gotten Loki back. In his mind, a series of memories that had played too many times: Loki, falling off the Bifrost. Loki, dying in his arms.

It hit Thor with a sudden clarity that Loki could not be allowed to die, not again. 

They had to fight. 

Any moment now, Loki was going to stand up, and he and Thor were going to make their escape. They’d fought through worse. 

“Loki,” Thor said, when one of the soldiers dragged Loki up by the arm, holding out a pair of manacles. 

Loki didn’t look at him. Why wasn’t he fighting? Why wasn’t he doing _anything_?

“Leave him,” Loki said, soft enough that Thor almost didn’t hear it. He lifted his head a fraction and Thor’s heart thudded painfully. 

“I’ll go quietly,” Loki said. “He has nothing to do with this.”

No. No. No. Thor’s hands began to tingle. That familiar itch crawled up his spine, and he breathed in deep, the scent of ozone thickening in the air.

There was the distant roar of thunder, and Thor’s eyes came alight with lightning. 

One of the soldiers flinched away, raising his blaster. “What is he—”

Thor hurled himself into the crowd of soldiers, his body a mere conduit for the raw power that was imbued upon him by his birthright. It was almost laughably easy to take them down—he grabbed a man by the throat and threw him into a wall, sent a streak of lightning into the chest of another, barreled through a group of five armored men—there was shrieking, and smoke—

“Stop, or I’ll blast his head off!” 

Through the haze of his rage, Thor snapped his head towards the sound of the voice, his teeth bared.

There was a gun held to Loki’s head, and his eyes were wide with panic.

The moment’s distraction was enough—something hit the back of Thor’s neck, sending a shockwave through his entire body, and he went down, body shuddering as a sharp pain bubbled through his veins. 

He shuddered on the ground, helpless, eyes rolling back into his head, his teeth gritted against the pain. Through the tears that blurred his vision, he saw that they were taking Loki away. 

“ _Stop,_ ” Thor choked, wheezing as someone drove a kick into his stomach, for the mere reason that they could. “What—what are you going to do with him?”

“Rabid cur,” said the grizzly soldier, squatting next to Thor’s face. He grabbed Thor by the hair and hauled his twitching body up so they were face-to-face. 

“The criminal is to be hanged,” the soldier said, sounding amused.

Thor spat in his face.

Anger flashed in those eyes. Then the soldier smiled, slow and wide.

“And you can hang with him.”

\--

If there was something Thor had learned in all his centuries, it was that the prettier the city, the uglier their jails.

For all the glitz and glamour of Rivan, their jail cells were a pisshole. Nothing but the worst for the criminals who would dare to spoil the city’s visage.

Loki was sitting in the corner, on a bench that was the only thing in the cell that wasn’t dirt or Aesir. Or Jotun, Thor amended. 

He was being uncharacteristically quiet, with not a single pithy comment the whole time they had been led from the marketplace to the prison. 

And not a hint of resistance, either, which had stilled Thor’s own hand. 

“So,” Thor began, when it seemed that Loki had no intention of speaking, “what did you do?”

“Oh, you know,” Loki said. “Stole something. Killed a few people. The usual.” There was a dangerous edge to his voice that made Thor’s hackles rise.

“Any chance you can return this thing you stole?” Thor asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the metal bars of their jail cell.

“Afraid not,” Loki said. His hands were loosely laced together, hanging between his spread legs. With his hair falling over his face, Thor couldn’t see his expression very well.

“Do you want to get out of here, then?” Thor asked. “I think we could take them.”

“Thor,” Loki laughed, hollow. “We’d have no way to get to the ship. This entire moon is swarming with military and my face would be on every holo-screen before we got 5 feet away from here.”

“...what exactly did you steal from these people, Loki?”

“Not from these people,” Loki said, shifting slightly. He turned his face slightly towards Thor, though he still didn’t look at him. Thor focused on the grim line of Loki’s mouth. “From the Elarian Empire. To be perfectly honest, I didn’t think they’d be looking for me on Rivan. Too bad about that bath, eh, brother?”

“Loki…” Thor started, but Loki cut him off with a small, bitter laugh.

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved,” Loki said, voice low and menacing. “I gave you the chance to walk away from this.”

“And leave you to _die_?” Thor asked, incredulous.

“I have no intention of dying,” Loki said. 

Before Thor could respond, the soldier from earlier marched into view. He was divested of his armor, but kept a blaster on his arm. Now that Thor could get a closer look, he saw that jutting below the muzzle of the blaster was a wicked point of sharp metal. A bayonet, Thor realized with a sick feeling. Unnecessarily cruel, when blaster fire was meant to stun rather than maim.

“Captain Zatath, 3rd Legion,” the man said. “I’ve been put in charge of your case.”

“ _Is_ there a case?” Thor asked. 

“No,” said the captain, with a wicked smile. “You hang in the morning.”

“We’re royalty, you know,” Thor tried. “I’m the king of Asgard.”

Thor didn’t expect any reaction other than disbelief, but Zatath did not immediately rebuff him. Instead, the man studied Thor for a moment, his gaze sharp, before saying, flatly: “You’re going to have to try better than that.”

Thor sighed, turning from where he was leaning against the bars to face the soldiers outside. His hands itched with static. There was nothing for it. He’d rather die fighting than hang in public, on a moon in the middle of nowhere—

“If I may make a request,” Loki said. 

“Denied,” said the captain. He turned to walk away.

“Trial by combat,” Loki said, lifting his head. Squaring his shoulders. “I know the laws of this land.”

“The only law on this land is that which is enforced by the Elarian Empire,” Zatath hissed.

“You will let me fight for my honor,” Loki said, standing up, finally. He placed his hands behind his back and tossed his head. The look he leveled at Zatath could have felled a lesser man. Thor knew that gaze for what it was. Knew what it felt to be looked upon by a Prince of Asgard: to be weighed and found wanting. 

Zatath stared at Loki, then barked out a laugh. 

“You will die like a dog either way, criminal,” he said, grinning. “You can have your trial. Enjoy your last night alive.”

The captain walked away, whistling obnoxiously as he went. 

Thor turned to Loki and said, “Are you absolutely certain you don’t want me to kill him?”

“I don’t need you to fight for me,” Loki said, turning away and sitting himself back down on the bench with his legs pulled up and crossed. He closed his eyes, holding his hands on his lap, and began to breathe deeply. Meditating. Scheming, possibly.

“So you’ve been here before,” Thor said. “Why didn’t you say?”

“Not here,” Loki said, brow rippling, as if Thor was a rock thrown into the peaceful lake of his concentration. “Elari.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think,” Loki said. 

“Didn’t think _what_ ,” Thor said waspishly.

“Didn’t think _at all_ ,” Loki said, opening his eyes and glaring at Thor. “I didn’t _think_ , brother. I suppose I was caught up in what you were offering.”

Thor blinked at him. “What...was I offering?”

“A chance to get off that damned ship,” Loki said, then closed his eyes again, as if that was settled.

“Loki…” Thor started slowly, “why did you come with me to Rivan?”

“Because you asked,” Loki said, tonelessly, then closed his eyes, signalling an end to the conversation. 

Thor looked at his brother uneasily, turning Loki’s words in his mind. 

He could have left, Thor knew. Could have gone at any time. He had the codes to the Commodore, but he had stayed, despite it somehow being so awful that he had risked his life, and Thor’s, just to go planet-side. 

Loki had been hard to decipher even when they had been on better terms. Now, he was about as clear as a wall of iron covered in a layer of thorns. 

Loki’s body settled into position, and Thor left him to it, settling down on the dirt floor and pillowing his head on his arms.

He was determined to get some rest.

Tomorrow awaited like a beast about to wake. 

\--

They were transported from the prison to the arena by Captain Zatath and an escort of half a dozen other guards. Thor had to stop himself from zapping them blind with his lightning and running away. Besides, Loki had a plan, surely.

Waiting to take action wasn’t in Thor’s nature, but he trusted Loki implicitly in such matters. Honor was not something Loki held in high regard, but pride was. There was little Loki hated more than being humiliated. If Loki had asked for this trial, he would see it through. 

Loki was not the first one to take his trial that day. The fighting lasted well into the late morning, thieves pitted against murderers, political opponents against traitors.

Thor observed not the fighters, but the audience. There was a loud, raucous crowd assembled, much like the spectators on Sakaar. Crimes were announced at the start of each match. The first fight that morning was between a murderer and a man who had stolen three roosters. 

Thor watched them fight clumsily, neither of them trained for battle at all. Beside him, Loki muttered disparagingly about their footwork, making Thor chuckle.

“Not everyone received a dedicated tutelage from the Royal Guard, brother,” Thor said under his breath. 

Eventually, the rooster thief knocked his opponent’s sword out of his hand, then jumped on him and wrestled him to the ground.

“ _Uncouth_ ,” Loki scoffed. 

The rooster thief pummeled his opponent’s face until blood started to fleck on his fists. The murderer went limp, seeping blood into the sand of the arena.

But when the thief stood up, Thor could see that his opponent was still breathing. Saw the man sit up, then fall back to the ground.

Then: a distinct ringing sound. The audience hushed, many of them shuffling in their seats. 

After a moment, the holo-screen overlooking the arena lit up, and Thor blinked at the sudden harsh lights proclaiming, in an almost-comical marquee: DEATH. DEATH. DEATH. 

“The audience decides,” Loki said quietly, beside Thor. “Anyone who kills their opponent before judgment is passed is killed as well.”

“Ah. The fighting is a farce,” Thor said. He didn’t flinch as the rooster thief took in the pronouncement, then picked up his opponent’s sword, and hacked his head off. 

So, each gaudily dressed, wine-guzzling member of the crowd had a button that decided the ultimate fate of anyone who entered the arena. The combat itself was, more or less, mere entertainment.

Loki would have to win not only his match, but the whims of the audience.

If Loki had a plan, it seemed to involve going through with his trial. Thor frowned as the crowd hushed, and thunderous footsteps revealed Loki’s opponent at the other end of the arena.

The man stood at least three heads taller than Loki, and was more than twice as wide. In one hand, he held a morning star, and in the other, a sword with a jagged edge. 

Even Loki grimaced as he stepped up beside Thor at the gate of the arena. 

“Here’s the plan,” Thor said, rubbing his hands together. “You go and fight, win to earn your freedom, and then we leave.”

“Brilliant,” Loki said, dry.

“It’s simple and quick,” Thor said. “You can take him.”

Loki rolled his eyes. Knives shimmered into his hands and he lifted his head, gazing icily out into the arena. 

“I’m going to have to,” he said. “Don’t do anything stupid.” 

With that, Loki strode out into the dusty arena, into the view of the crowing crowd, and faced his opponent. Their crimes were announced: the man had murdered a dozen people in a fit of rage. And Loki’s crime was, simply and vaguely, theft. 

There was a loud noise, like a gong being struck, and the fight began. 

“This is going to be quick,” said one of the guards at the gate with Thor. They were the same six who had escorted them to the arena. Zatath seemed to be elsewhere.

Thor would have been offended on Loki’s behalf, if he were not so confident that his brother would be victorious.

Loki had been trained for nearly a millennia, and was well-used to sparring with larger, more forceful opponents. No son of Odin, no Aesir-trained soldier, would falter in this. 

That should have been the case, but even Thor could see from the start that Loki seemed to be at a disadvantage. He was quick, but he couldn’t seem to get close enough to get a strike on his opponent. Thor shifted on his feet, nervous, as Loki evaded blow after blow, always on the defensive. 

Each time Loki barely dodged a hit, Thor felt his hands twitch and spark lightning. He tamped the urge down, waiting and watching. 

This wasn’t how the fight was supposed to go. Loki had never been a forceful fighter, favoring speed and skill over strength, but Loki was _Loki_. He’d fought with Thor on the front lines in Vanaheim, Muspelheim. Loki had led battles, and won them. 

He should not have been so outmatched.

And then the unthinkable happened—Loki slipped up, tripping on his own feet, and his behemoth opponent’s mace caught him in the stomach, sending him flying across the arena into the opposite wall. 

Loki hit the wall with a dull thud, and slid to the ground. 

His opponent turned to crowd and lifted his arms, calling for cheers. 

Blood and electricity surged in Thor’s veins. Outside, the sky began to darken with clouds.

Loki did not move. 

“Hey,” one of the guards said, as Thor started to stride forward. “You’re not allowed—”

Thor grabbed his arm and threw him into the wall, then made short work of the five other guards. 

He ran, gathering lightning into his palms and sending it streaking towards the giant in the arena, who was still calling towards the audience—

—at the same time that Loki’s voice cried out, “Thor, _no_!”

The lightning fell upon the goliath, thunderous, and left the air sizzling. The man fell to the ground with a reverberating _thud_. 

Thor didn’t need to look. He knew the man was dead. 

The crowd was getting worked up, loud with confusion and intrigue. 

“I _told_ you not to do anything stupid,” Loki said, shimmering into place in front of Thor. “You absolute _imbecile_!” He seemed to be unharmed—had he been _faking_ it? An illusion. Norns, Thor _was_ an imbecile.

His mind raced as black-armored soldiers started swarming down the seats and into the arena.

“What have you _done_ , Thor,” Loki hissed, gesturing at the tumultuous crowd, “the trial isn’t acceptable if you—they’ll _kill_ us—”

_Think fast, Odinson, think fast._

Thor grabbed Loki by the waist, pulling him close.

“I’m sorry,” Thor said.

“What—”

“Beloved!” Thor said, loud and booming, then drew Loki to his chest and kissed him.

There was a beat of silence. Everything seemed to slow down, the air thick and honeyed with tension.

Behind them, sounding very far away, was the sound of joyful screaming, the tolling of bells.

Then the crowd burst into riotous, deafening cheer.

The holo-screen lit up: LIFE. LIFE. LIFE.


	2. Chapter 2

“Beloved?!” Loki shrieked as he hurled another knife at Thor’s head. 

Thor, cringing behind an overturned desk, ducked lower to the ground. He wasn’t cowering, not at all—only taking a defensive position against an angry opponent. Thor hoped their host’s good nature following the spectacle in the arena would carry over once they saw the mess he and Loki had made of their temporary chambers. 

“I was only trying to save your life!”  
  
“You should have been thinking of your own life, _beloved_!”

Loki’s palms suddenly began to glow a sickly, cloying shade of green, and Thor’s stomach dropped. That was never a good sign.

“Loki.” Thor stood up as straight as he could without exposing any vital organs. “Bro—”

Loki pounced. 

Thor fell to the floor and jerked his head to the side just in time for a knife to come slamming down on empty space. 

They grappled on the floor. They were unfortunately evenly matched in this: Thor was stronger, but Loki squirmed. And wriggled. And he _bit_.

Eventually, Thor managed to turn them over and straddle Loki, holding both his arms by the wrists above his head. At times like this, Thor really missed Mjolnir.

“Calm _down_ ,” Thor hissed, as Loki continued to struggle. 

Loki opened his mouth, spitting with venom and rage. But before he could speak, there was a knock on the door. 

They froze.

After a beat, there was more knocking. 

Loki shot Thor a murderous glare, and Thor jerked his head towards the door. They untangled themselves quickly, and, still panting and disheveled, opened the door.

The person on the other side took a single look at them and coughed, blushing and averting his eyes.

“I—I’m sorry to interrupt—”

“It’s fine,” Loki said, strained, at the same time that Thor said, “We were finished—”

There was a beat, and then the person coughed again.

“Yes?” Thor prompted.

The person—a messenger, judging by the scroll he pulled out and unrolled—said:

“You have an invitation. From the empress of Elari herself, an audience with her at the Palace at Ximia, the imperial capital. You will be taken there by private rail tomorrow. She sends her apologies to you and your spouse, your majesty.”

Thor made a faint noise from the back of his throat. His _spouse._

“We accept, thank you,” Loki said, voice carefully blank.

Thor shot Loki a look, but the messenger seemed to take Loki’s acceptance as the final word, and moved on to his next order of business: “The governor of Rivan would also like to invite you to a private dinner tonight. He extends his own apologies.”

“We accept,” Thor said, when it seemed like Loki would not speak on this one. 

The messenger nodded, then bowed and left. 

“A dinner,” Thor said, rubbing a hand across his face. “I’m in no mood for socializing tonight. We should get out of this place, find a ship, and head back to the Statesman.”

Loki shook his head, slow, the way he did when he was deep in thought. 

Thor closed the door behind them, then leaned against it, arms crossed.

“Unless you have a better plan?” he asked steadily.

Loki, whose hands had started fidgeting, fixed him with a look. He looked like he was about to say something, then thought better of it. Instead, he strode forward, pressing himself into Thor’s space. He brought their faces very close together.

“Um,” Thor said, and then Loki was kissing him. 

It was perfunctory, almost cold. Loki kissed the way he went about most things: haughty with the expectation of success. 

All things considered, it was not, in fact, a bad kiss. 

“Mmff—” Thor said. 

Loki pulled away and kissed a line across his jaw, then pressed his lips up to Thor’s ear and whispered, “We’re being watched. Put your arms around me.”

Thor fought the urge to stiffen up completely, and did as Loki said, sliding his arms around Loki’s waist and back. 

Loki kissed his cheek, then peppered kisses down his neck. Thor shivered, and closed his eye. 

_Don’t think about it,_ he told himself. _This means nothing._

“Loki…”

“The messenger was a spy from the Elarian empire, whose royal family is more treacherous even than our own,” Loki said, against his skin. His eyes flickered up to Thor’s and he began working his way up Thor’s neck again, whispering all the while. “They know no ounce of sincerity. They know who I am and what I have done. We will not reach the capital alive.”

Thor growled, turning them around and pinning Loki to the wall in one swift motion. He held Loki’s arms beside his head, and Loki tilted his neck as if in invitation. Thor leaned down and brushed his mouth against Loki’s neck in a parody of a kiss, then whispered, heatedly, “How do you know these things? How can I trust you? _Who_ _are you_ to these people, Loki?” 

Loki’s eyelids fluttered, and a shudder ran through him. Thor would not have felt it had they not been pressed so tightly against each other. It made his stomach turn to think that Loki was afraid. 

“I can’t tell you everything right now,” Loki said, pressing his forehead to Thor’s. “If things go wrong, I would have you stay innocent.”

“How can I trust you when you speak in secrets, Loki?” Thor said, almost pleading. 

“Just this once,” Loki said, “Thor. Just this once.” He pinned Thor with a look, his eyes wide, his expression open. Almost sincere, if Thor thought Loki capable of such thing. And Norns damn him, maybe he did. 

Thor closed his eye and nodded, letting go of Loki’s arms. The two of them stayed close together for a few long moments, and then Loki kissed Thor’s cheek, soft and swift, and pulled away. 

“I’m afraid I’m too tired to do more than that, husband,” Loki said, and the regret in his voice sounded almost real.

“We’ve had a long day,” Thor said, gruff. “We should prepare for dinner.”

“Would you like to go on a walk outside with me, first?” Loki asked, with a look that brooked no argument. “I need some fresh air.”

They walked. There was a garden outside the Governor’s Manor, where they had been welcomed after their display at the arena. It was beautiful, clearly well-kept, and made Thor miss his mother. There were rows and rows of hedges, going around in a geometric pattern and leading into a large circular clearing at the center, where dinner was to be held. 

He and Loki walked slowly between the hedgerows, Loki speaking to him in a low voice.

“...they will likely kill us on the rail tomorrow. A private rail will have no other casualties. Of course, they might try to poison our drinks tonight. It is best to deny any offer of drink.”

“Why don’t we just leave now?”

“They’ll be expecting it,” Loki whispered. “Tomorrow, we will be alone on the rail. We must try to make our escape then.”

Thor sighed. He’d lived with the threat of assassination his whole life. Why did these people have to make everything so complicated?

“Why don’t we leave after dinner is over? There must be a way to get off-planet, though I assume they’ve already confiscated the Commodore.”

Loki’s grip on his arm tightened as a couple drifted past them, and Thor winced. 

“They’ve probably already torn it apart,” Loki said, “trying to find what I stole.”

“So we steal a ship.”

“Not that easy,” Loki said. “Rivan has a very strict outgoing spacefield. There’s a thriving black market.”

“We got in easy,” Thor said. 

Loki shrugged, “We had the Grandmaster’s ship.”

“Great,” Thor said. “So we steal a ship from the governor.”

“I’d need his access codes, and I don’t have the time to get them out of him.”

Thor looked at him, eyebrow raised. “And how were you planning to do that?”

“Don’t be so prudish, brother,” Loki said, rolling his eyes. “I’ve done much worse. In any case, everyone seems to think you’re my spouse, so that is off the table. Unless you’d like to join…?”

“No, thank you,” Thor said, in what he hoped was a level voice.

Loki stopped walking abruptly, and Thor saw that they had arrived at the center of the garden maze, where an opulent gazebo stood. Its roof swirled upwards like a dollop of icing, and its columns were covered in multicolored fabrics. At a glance, it looked more cake than building. 

“Ah, here he is! The man of the night!” The man who approached them wore a high-collared navy jacket and black trousers, both of which contrasted with the long, white hair that fell over his shoulders. He was expansive, both in girth and in personality.

“You must be the governor,” Thor nodded, plastering a smile on his face. 

“Madon, please, I insist,” said the man, taking Thor’s hand in his and squeezing it twice. 

The governor turned to Loki and squeezed his hand the same way, apologizing profusely to the both of them for “the fiasco with the jail and the arena, oh my! Zatath is quite eager, yes, quite, but he’s too much of a stickler for rules. We would never _dream_ of executing royalty.”

As he spoke, he led them to the gazebo, where there was a low table set into the center of a sunken ring. Cushions and furs surrounded the table, where there were already a few guests gathered—the captain of the guard, Zatath, among them. 

“I’m sure it was all a misunderstanding. An error in the system,” Madon finished, bowing deeply, extending a hand to show Thor and Loki their seats.

“An error in the system almost got us killed,” Thor said, raising his voice as he took his seat. 

Zatath was turned towards them, a hard stare in his eyes. 

“I apologize, your majesty,” he said, tone contrite despite his demeanor. “If I had known—”

“We told you who we were,” Thor grunted.

“I can’t make a habit of believing every tourist who comes to Rivan, especially when they are tagged as criminals,” Zatath said with a disbelieving laugh, then coughed his throat and looked away when Thor glared.

“Peace, Thor,” Loki said, setting a placating hand on his arm in a gesture Thor had seen their mother do many times. “The captain was merely doing his duty.”

“Well, enough of such serious business for tonight!” said Madon, settling himself at the head of the table. “Who wants drinks?” At his question, a servant came forward, carrying a large ceramic pitcher in his arms.

“Oh, I’m afraid I can’t,” Thor said, remembering Loki’s words. _Deny any offer of drink._

Madon raised an eyebrow.

“Whyever not?” 

“Ah, I…” 

“Just water for him, please,” said Loki, holding his hand out for the drink. He met Thor’s eye as he drank from his cup, slow and deliberate. “He’s with child.”

Thor choked, then covered it with a cough, taking the water that Loki airily handed him.

“Oh, how _wonderful,_ ” Madon said, nodding eagerly. “We have such a high marriage rate in Rivan, yes, quite high, but such a low birth rate!”

“Yes, well,” Thor said, clearing his throat, “I must do my part to restart repopulation efforts for my own people. And Loki is doing an admirable job. He’s always wanted to be a father, you see.”

Under the table, Loki’s hand clenched hard on Thor’s thigh.

“Is that so?” said Madon, leaning forward. “I have a daughter of my own. Pearl of my life, yes, quite.”

“I want at least seven children,” Loki said, taking a sip of his wine.

“I’ll give you twelve,” Thor said, and took a gulp of his water.

“My,” Madon laughed, “such voracious appetites! I love that in a couple, don’t you, captain?”

“Indeed,” said the captain. “But you have only just gotten wed, I presume? That is why you are on Rivan?”

“Well, yes,” Loki said, as Thor busied himself with his water and the patterns on the smooth wooden table. “Thor, ah, fell pregnant, and we were just so...ecstatic. We had to get married as soon as possible.”

“But the fight in the arena!” Madon gasped, his palms coming down onto the table. “You must have been so worried!”

“It’s why I didn’t want him to get involved,” Loki said empathically. 

“The child and I are fine,” Thor said, in a simpering voice. “Beloved.”

“You really gave the audience quite a show,” said Zatath. “A very good performance.”

Thor gave him a sharp glance. “There was nothing of a performance about it, captain. My spouse was in mortal danger. I was beside myself.”

“Yes, quite exciting, quite exciting,” said Madon. “But here is something even more exciting—tell me, majesties, have you ever had roasted sunbird?”

“Ah, they were quite popular on Asgard,” Thor said, glad for a change in the topic of conversation, and somehow heartened by the familiar sight of roasted fowl, its feathers—edible as well—splayed around it like the rays of a sun. 

“You must miss your planet terribly,” Zatath said, his voice taking on a sympathetic tone. “I am personally of the opinion that Asgard was one of the greatest empires in the universe.”

There was something about the way he said _empire_ , Thor thought. Like he was savoring the taste of it in his mouth.

“It was our home,” Thor said, simply. 

“To Asgard,” Zatath said, raising his glass.

“To Asgard,” Thor said in chorus with the rest, swallowing down his water.

It did not wash away the bitterness in his throat. 

\--

The rest of dinner went as pleasantly as it could, despite Thor having to go through it sober.

Loki, on the other hand, seemed intent on getting drunk. At the end of the night, Thor had to support him with an arm slung around his shoulder, giving both their goodbyes to Madon and his guests.

The night was cool, and a dozen moons hung in the sky like a string of pearls. As a pleasant breeze carried the smell of moonflowers, Thor almost felt content. Despite everything, it was good to have his feet on solid ground again. 

As they walked back through the garden, Thor’s still-sharp senses caught a slight echo to their steps. He pressed his lips to Loki’s ear and whispered, “I think we are being followed.”

Loki, who had been limp and pliant in Thor’s arms, stiffened. His head lifted.

“It’s Zatath,” he murmured. “He suspects us.”

“I see,” Thor said, decisively. He pressed Loki up against the hedgerows, then cupped his cheek. His brother’s face was flushed, but his eyes were bright and clear.

They both leaned in at the same time.

Loki sighed into the kiss, hand draped around the back of Thor’s head, scratching at his hair. 

It was pleasant. That was all Thor allowed himself to think.

They stayed like that for a long while, curled into each other, until they heard footsteps behind them.

Thor pulled away first, though he stayed close.

“Excuse me, majesties,” Zatath said, nodding towards them, unphased by seeing them in such a position. “I wish you a good night.”

“And you,” Thor said, and took Loki’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

He felt the weight of Zatath’s stare at his back for a long while. 

\--

He set Loki on the bed, where his brother rolled around in the sheets with a sigh. 

“I’m going for a bath,” Thor said. He received no answer, except for a small snore from Loki.

Well, Thor was certainly not leaving this planet or getting assassinated on a train without first having a proper bath.

He spent almost an hour drifting off in the large, luxurious pool set into the floor of the bathing chambers. Steam rose into the air, and Thor breathed in deeply of the lavender-scented oil he had poured into the pool. He ran his fingers across the surface of the water as he tried to make sense of all that had happened in the past two days. 

Their ship, carrying thousands of Asgardian and Sakaarian refugees, was stalled somewhere in space. Loki was a criminal on this Norns-forsaken moon, where, even now, in the middle of the night, there was the incessant tolling of wedding bells. 

Loki had not denied his criminal charge, though no one would tell Thor what his crime was. Apparently it was serious enough for Loki to fight for his life at a trial that held no real meaning. And when Thor had disrupted the proceedings, spelling out a death sentence for both of them— they had been given their freedom instead. 

And now, an invitation from the Elarian empire, and Loki desperate not to accept it. 

Secrets upon lies upon deceptions. Thor had no head for these sorts of games. He forced his mind to wander to different lands, musing that this was the longest time he’d spent with Loki in...ages. Even before the troubles on Earth, before his coronation. 

His coronation. What a mess that had been. The informal, sparse ceremony on the Statesman had felt like it carried more weight than that disastrous affair.

Sighing, Thor reached underneath the water to touch himself absently. He circled his fist around his cock and began to pump, his other hand coming up to pinch at his nipple. The sharp pleasure made his cock swell, and he kept his thoughts moving, drifting. It had been a while since he’d done this properly. There were few pleasures to be had on the Statesman, and Thor had little time for them, in any case. Most days, he fell into bed without even managing to take off his boots. 

But here...for now, he could take his time. He let out a soft sigh as his cock grew hard in his fist, pleasure running down his spine, making his toes curl. He lifted a knee and spread his legs apart, letting his hips roll into his fist. His breathing started to come out in short, wet pants, and he lifted a hand to his mouth, slipping two fingers inside, just for the sensation of being filled. Gods, it had been so long since he’d been fucked properly.

Loki had said they were being watched.

Thor hoped they enjoyed the show.

He leaned his head against the rim of the pool and listened to the water sloshing. He called to mind his oft-visited fantasies, rifling through them as his cock twitched and swelled in his fist. He brought to memory the first time he had ever been with a man: an older, experienced commander from Vanaheim, in a year he had spent away from home, learning Vanir war tactics. The man had only been too happy to have the Prince of Asgard keening and whining under his hands, and Thor had only been too happy to be the keening and whining golden boy that he had been, then. 

Spit-slicked fingers emerged from his mouth to circle his nipples again, pinching and rubbing as he stroked his thumb on his slit. 

“ _Ngh_ ,” Thor grunted, spreading his legs further in the water as he dragged a hand beneath him, past his bollocks to rub at his furl. He remembered himself as a young man, ass in the air, face pressed into a bedroll, a fat cock pounding into him. 

As his hand moved faster and faster on his cock, the fantasies began to come faster, with no clear thought or logic behind them: himself, pink-mouthed and drooling, legs spread as wide as they would go, rough hands on his thighs, then the roles were reversed, he was fucking some young man on a bedroll, his cock pounding into a hot, wet hole—and then as he was closer to orgasm, just a set of disjointed images: a hot mouth sucking on the head of his cock, dark hair, pale skin, soft lips, a kiss that was both perfunctory and somehow perfect—Loki—

Thor’s mouth fell open in a soundless cry as he came with a shock, realization following closely at the heels of his orgasm.

And then, almost like a taunt, Loki’s face, clear-eyed and red-cheeked, flashed in his mind again.

Thor lay in the pool, panting, trying to gather his bearings. He squeezed his eyes shut, tried to focus on the memory of space, of darkness. Nothing else. Nothing that had to be spoken of. To speak something was to call it into being, and Thor had no desire to do so, not with this.

He was struck all at once with a sudden need to move, so he rinsed himself off quickly, and clambered out of the pool. He dressed himself quickly in the cool, fresh sleeping clothes laid out for him, and carefully opened the door to the bedroom.

Loki was still asleep.

Thor felt too warm, and the breeze from the open window was not enough to soothe him.

Perhaps he should go for a walk to clear his thoughts. 

Thor slipped on the very soft sandals that had been arranged beside the bed, carefully did not look at his brother, and left the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Thor inhaled deeply as he stepped out beyond the threshold of the manor. It was a splendid building: white like the rest of Rivan, domed and shimmering in the moonlight like a pearl half-buried in the sand. 

He closed his eye for the briefest moment, and, in the space between one blink, found himself upon the Statesman. Heimdall stood beside him with his hands on his sword, the way he had often positioned himself in the Bifrost Observatory. His eyes gazed out into the darkness before him, seeing all. 

Thor stifled the urge to squirm. He felt, stupidly, as if he was going to be berated.

“Heimdall,” he greeted. 

“The plan didn’t work,” Heimdall said.

“No,” Thor huffed, crossing his arms, looking out at space instead of his at his old friend.

“Your brother caused a bit of trouble,” Heimdall said, with no hint of judgment in his voice.

Thor rankled anyway. “He’ll find a way to get us out of it. I trust him.”

Heimdall nodded.

“We will wait. Come back safe, and soon.”

Before Thor could speak, he found himself back in his own body, standing at the doors that led to the garden. A breeze, too cool on his heated skin, brushed over him. He shivered and stood there, taking a moment to find his bearings again. 

He shook his head and rubbed a hand across his face. 

“Couldn’t even have warned me,” he muttered under his breath.

He stepped out into the garden, wandering through rows of flowers he could not recognize—pale white blooms, flushed open in the moonlight and heavy on the vine—trying to think of things that were not—that did not involve—

Thor hissed out a breath, covering his face with one hand.

There was nothing to think about. Sometimes people had intrusive thoughts, and it had been a long day, and Thor had not been touched properly in ages. 

That was all. 

Thus assured, Thor turned on his heel and, resolute, strode back to the room he shared with his brother.

\--

When Thor returned, he found Loki sitting up on the bed with his legs crossed, changed into a sleeping tunic that was too large for him. Loki couldn’t sleep in the tight clothes that usually covered him from head to toe in public, so he must have woken up and changed while Thor was outside. 

Loki’s tunic slipped off one pale shoulder as he rocked gently back and forth, meditating. Thor averted his eyes.

There was, of course, only one bed in the room. Since they were married. Thor sighed, and toed off his sandals, trying to be quiet so as not to distract Loki, who had begun muttering under his breath.

“—on Rivan—my companion and I—would you leave us to _die_ —” His voice was taking on a frantic note, and his hands were clenched so tightly that Thor could see they were going white.

“Loki?”

Thor strode over and grabbed Loki’s shoulder, shaking him. He grasped Loki’s chin and pulled it towards him. When Loki’s eyes met him, they were wide, unseeing. 

“Loki!” Thor said, and shook him again. When that had no effect, Thor sent a small shock of lightning into Loki’s shoulder.

Loki gasped, then went limp, breathing hard. Thor caught him, holding him close as he came back to himself. 

“...Thor?” Loki said, blearily, muffled against Thor’s chest. 

“Beloved,” Thor said, steadily, voice pitched to carry, “did you have a bad dream? You fell asleep sitting up. You must be exhausted.”

“...yes,” Loki said, soft. He pulled himself a fraction away from Thor but stayed close, his hands around Thor’s waist. “Yes. I’m very tired.”

“Sleep,” Thor said. “We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Loki said, steadier this time. He leaned in close to Thor again, almost kissing his neck. Thor fought not to shiver at the gesture. “I warded the doors and the window. We can sleep safe tonight,” Loki murmured.

Then he motioned with his fingers, and the lights turned off. 

It was only in the darkness that Loki pulled away from Thor, shuffling backwards and leaving a space between them as they settled into bed.

Then there was nothing else to do except try to sleep. Beside him, he felt Loki fall asleep easily once more, still drowsy from the drink.

Thor, on the other hand, lay awake.

As sleep evaded him, he thought of how long it had been since he and Loki shared a bed. As children, they had shared everything. Even as they grew older, hunting trips forced them to sleep in close proximity. And as young men, there had been moments, though few and far between, of quiet intimacy…

He turned over, mind wandering to Loki, Loki’s crime, his past on this world that Thor knew nothing about. He had been distressed tonight, while Thor brought himself to completion thinking of—

No. He would not think on it. 

He had failed his brother enough times through the years. Had piled on him slight upon slight until he had broken from it. Had let him fall into the void.

If anything, Loki’s crime on this world might as well have been Thor’s fault.

It didn’t matter if Loki had done terrible things—as the older brother, Thor should have watched over him. Should have done better. 

There were so many things he could have done better. 

Thor rolled over again, facing Loki in the darkness. He could just barely make out his face, slack in sleep.

Safe, for now. 

He had to make sure it stayed that way.

Eventually, Thor slept. If he dreamed, he did not remember it in the morning.

\--

Realms such as Asgard and Elari managed to maintain imperial power through many ways. The Bifrost was not just a means of efficient transport for Asgardians: for centuries, its light heralded destruction upon other realms. That shining beacon of Asgardian might was feared across the galaxy. 

Five centuries ago, Elari was just a smattering of disparate tribes. Now, it was an advanced, bustling planet with twenty-three moons in its orbit. Elari had no Bifrost nor other similar mechanism, but there were rumors that the power it wielded was more insidious in nature: the Royal Family had magic that could control people’s hearts and minds. 

“It’s not merely a rumor,” Loki said, in a soft murmur as he and Thor cuddled close in the soft early morning light, presenting the picture of an intimate couple to their spies. Like this, Thor could almost pretend they were back in Asgard. 

They had been almost as intimate as young men, on the cusp of adulthood, when everything in the realms seemed ripe for the taking. When they had both been so convinced of their own importance, that no one could mean as much to them as each other.

“So the thing you stole…” Thor sighed.

Loki’s throat bobbed as he nodded, not looking at Thor.

“Where is it now?” Thor asked.

“On Midgard,” Loki said. “Safe, I assume. The Midgardians don’t know how to wield its power.”

“On Midgard…” Thor mused.

“I’ll explain everything when we are safer, Thor, I swear it.” Loki’s eyes were closed, his brow furrowed. He looked—and felt, in Thor’s arms—small.

Thor ran a hand down Loki’s side, soothing him.

“I have already decided to trust you,” Thor said. “What is our new plan?”

“We will need to be transported from Rivan to Elari. There is a rail system that connects the moons to the mother planet. I have… attempted to contact some friends.”

“You have friends here?” Thor asked, surprised. 

Loki’s mouth twisted. “Of a sort,” he said.

“Was that what you were doing last night?” Thor pressed. “I didn’t know you could.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Yes, Thor. There are many things about me you seem not to know, _brother_.”

“Things you refuse to tell me,” Thor said, cradling the back of Loki’s head with one hand. “Things you keep from me. Things that happened to you, when I was not there.”

“Thor—” 

“I should have been there,” Thor carried on, stroking Loki’s neck. “I should have—”

“You weren’t,” Loki said, sharp. “I didn’t need you then, and I don’t need you now.”

“I’m sorry,” Thor whispered. “For my part in—all of this. This pretense. I can only imagine your discomfort. You are my _brother_ , Loki, and nothing will change that.”

“I know,” Loki said, edged with bitterness. “Believe me, Thor. I know.”

\--

The captain led their escort to the station, bright and chipper. He seemed to have changed his opinion of them entirely, and apologized profusely to Thor about the “misunderstanding.”

“My apologies again, your majesties,” Zatath said, inclining his head. You will enjoy yourselves in Elari. The imperial capital is beautiful this time of month.”

They followed Zatath to the take-off point for their skiff to the station, and Thor felt his eye start to twitch as they passed skiff after skiff, going for the one at the end. 

Finally, Zatath presented them with their ride: it was a glimmering white, with flowers and ribbons along its rails. 

“To celebrate your nuptials,” Zatath said, stroking his beard as he gestured for Thor and Loki to climb onto it. 

“Thank you,” Thor said awkwardly, and shut the door. He sat stiffly on the plush seat as Loki opened the window and leaned out to watch the streets go by. Rivan truly was a pageant of wealth and debauchery. They passed by no less than a dozen weddings, and somehow more than that number of public bedding ceremonies. It made Thor’s head spin, but Loki seemed to be enjoying himself.

After a while, Loki shut the window with an air of satisfaction, and sat himself on Thor’s lap.

“Even here?” Thor whispered, as Loki leaned in close.

“We can’t risk it,” Loki whispered back. “I heard back from my friends.” 

“Is that why you took so long in the baths this morning?” Thor asked, imagining Loki meditating inside the pool. 

Loki elbowed him in the chest.

“There are routine checkpoints along the rail to Elari. They will board the train on one of them, and take us somewhere safe.”

Thor grunted, steadying Loki with a hand on his back.

“You seem to be enjoying this too much,” Thor said.

“Perish the thought,” Loki said airily, and settled himself in for the ride. 

\--

The rail station was a magnificent sight, a monolith hewn out of a cliffside at the edge of the city. Massive, interminably long tracks extended from the station out into open space, connecting the moon to its planet in a feat of engineering that rivaled even Asgard’s Observatory. It was the same rail system that connected Elari to each of its twenty-three moons.

Loki and Thor stepped out of their carriage into the chaos of the morning commute. Zatath and his six guards, who herded them onto a private rail car, bid them farewell on the platform. 

“You will have a new escort at Ximia,” Zatath said, bowing at the waist. “I must take my leave, your majesties.” 

Thor nodded, ready to board the rail car, but Loki took a moment to study Zatath. In the end, he inclined his head and said, “Thank you.”

“No, your majesty,” Zatath said, and smiled slow and wide. “Thank _you_.”

With that, he turned and strode away, followed by his guards.

Loki gave Thor a significant look and said, “They are definitely going to assassinate us.”

\--

Thor stood at the window and watched the star-speckled darkness of space fly past him. The emptiness reminded him too much of those first few days on the Statesman, after the destruction of Asgard. Those bleak, awful days before he managed to pull himself together, for what was left of his people. The same people he had abandoned in a failed attempt to _purchase fuel_. 

“Thor.” Behind him, Loki was sitting with his legs pulled up on the chair, crossed again, in his meditating pose. “Your distress is distracting,” Loki continued, bland, his eyes shut. “Unclench your fists or your hands will go numb.”

Thor took a sharp breath, and did as Loki said. His hands tingled. He forced himself to look away from the window.

Loki didn’t appear to be communicating with anyone, and he didn’t have another fit like the one the night prior. His brow remained smooth, his posture relaxed. Just normal meditation, then. 

Thor took to pacing the length of the rail car. It was ten paces from the front to the back, with his stride. When the rail car slowed down at the first rest stop, Thor stopped in the middle of the compartment, hands closing and opening, until they moved again. 

“Thor,” Loki said, biting the name out, halting Thor in the middle of his march down the compartment. He stayed in position, eyes still closed, but his shoulders were stiff. “I’d appreciate it if you could stop.”

Thor huffed.

“I’m a little tense,” he said, his hands coming together to fidget. It was a habit he and Loki had picked up from Frigga, though he thought he’d outgrown it long ago. Loki never did. It was one of his tells. 

“Sit down,” Loki said, in a tone that brooked no argument. He opened his eyes and tilted his head to the seat beside him. “Sit with me. I taught you how to meditate centuries ago.”

“It never caught on with me,” Thor said, but he sat beside Loki, though he didn’t draw his legs up onto the seat.

“I’m aware,” Loki said, dry. “Just close your eyes and try not to be so loud.”

“Ugh,” Thor said. He thumped his head against the back of the seat as Loki returned to his meditation.

“I’m going to...” Thor’s words trailed off as the rail car came to another slow halt. It was too early for another stop. He shot Loki a look, but Loki was already getting up. 

Loki put his arms behind his back, standing tall and straight, as the door to the rail car burst open. 

A woman with fiery red hair entered first, a blaster in her hands. She was covered from head to toe in black clothing, and opaque goggles hid her eyes. Behind her was a taller figure with short black hair. Two blasters were strapped to their back and they were holding a double-barreled firearm. A shotgun, Thor recalled, from his early lessons in ancient weaponry. 

Both figures wore masks that covered most of their faces, such that when the first figure pulled down hers, Thor was surprised to see a smattering of freckles on her brown skin. 

“—don’t have time, we have to hurry—” the second figure was saying.

The first woman stepped up to Loki, then slapped him across the face. 

Thor blinked, stunned, and Loki held up a hand towards him, stopping him from interfering.

“Sigyn,” Loki said, and his face was twisted, not with anger, as Thor was expecting, but some kind of sorrow. 

It morphed into surprise when Sigyn threw herself at him, hugging him.

“You _jerk_ ,” she said. “I can’t believe—”

“We don’t have _time_ ,” the other figure said. “You,” they said, jerking their head at Thor, “Asgardian. You can breathe in space can’t you?”

“I’d prefer not to—”

“What are you going to do?” Loki asked, with some alarm. His shoulders had gone rigid. “Blast the windows?”

“ _Blast the windows_ ,” Sigyn said, scoffing. She strode past Thor and attached circular charges to the glass windows. “We’re going to shatter them gently, no need to make a fuss about it.”

“You blasted the doors open—” Thor started.

“Look, do you want to be rescued or not?”

Sigyn tugged her mask back on, and then pressed a button on her bracer. Spindly cracks began to grow from the charges, spreading and rooting out into the rest of the glass. 

“Was there really no other way?” Loki asked, voice suspiciously close to a whine. 

“Wait,” Thor said, “if we’re flung outside—”

A gentle tap from the other figure was enough to shatter the glass, and, before Thor could protest further, the whole panel fell in on itself and they were sucked into the cold emptiness of space.


	4. Chapter 4

Thor drifted, trying not to panic. He _could_ breathe in space, but not easily, and movement was near-impossible. The cold assaulted him immediately, seeping under his clothes and prickling at his skin. The darkness ate at him, and his heart began to hammer in his chest.

He startled as his back hit something, and he bounced gently against it. He blinked blearily, forcing his freezing hands to feel around him, and found a net extending as far as he could see on either side. A quiet _thump_ to his right announced someone’s presence, though Thor could barely make them out in the darkness

The figure pointed to the train car they had abandoned, and in the next moment, it exploded into flames. They—Thor realized it was Sigyn’s companion, the person with the shotgun, their figure illuminated briefly by the conflagration—gestured with an open palm as if to say, “I told you so.”

Two more _thumps_ against the net: Sigyn and Loki coming to rest on either side of them.

Sigyn began to climb up the net, towards something Thor couldn’t see. Thor forced his limbs to move, and began to climb after her.

\--

They hit the vessel after around ten minutes of crawling around in space. The doors slid open to reveal a man with messy blonde hair, a clean, shaved face, and a red coat, the lights from inside ensconcing him like a halo. 

He also had, to Thor’s chagrin, an eyepatch over his left eye.

Thor grunted as he stumbled into the ship. The door slid shut behind them, and Thor took a deep breath as he acclimatized to the gravity. As soon as he straightened up, however, he was faced down with the barrel of a blaster. Why did that keep happening? 

“Aleksei!” Sigyn huffed, swatting the blaster away. “You keep that thing holstered!”

“Far be it from me to tell _you_ what to do, Sigyn, but these are _fugitives_ we have on board,” said Aleksei. He nudged his blaster right up into Thor’s face. Suddenly incensed, Thor stood, drawing himself up to full height, daring the other man to make a move.

“This is _Loki_ ,” Sigyn said, and the way she said his brother’s name made Thor feel strange. _He_ was usually the one who spoke of Loki in that tone. Defending him, vouching for him. Who was this woman, to speak of him so?

“Tala, tell him!” Sigyn said.

The other figure who had been on the train pulled down their mask, revealing the grim line of their mouth. 

“Put the gun down, Aleksei,” Tala said. “Loki is our friend. And innocent until proven guilty.”

Thor turned to look at his brother, surprised to see him breathing hard, his shoulders hunched, his gaze blank where he was staring into space. The climb hadn’t been taxing, so why was Loki so distressed?

“You stay where you are!” Aleksei barked, nudging his blaster into Thor’s skin as he made a move towards his brother. Thor grabbed the muzzle of the blaster and pushed it away, saying, “He’s not well, what did you do to him? Loki?”

Aleksei growled, turning off the safety of his gun. The sound of his blaster powering up was loud in the tense silence of the ship.

“Don’t fucking test me, Asgardian.”

“I’m fine,” Loki said, seeming to snap out of his haze. He tilted his head, even mustered up a smile.

“It’s nice to see you again, too, Leksi,” Loki said, waving his fingers jauntily.

“Put the gun _down_ , Aleksei,” Tala said again. 

There was another tense, heavy moment, and then Aleksei rammed his blaster into its hoster.

“It’s on your head if he betrays us again,” Alexei said venomously, his nostrils flaring. He turned on his heel and stomped out of the room. 

“Sorry about him,” Sigyn said. 

“Well, _you_ slapped him,” Thor said, tilting his head at Loki. 

Sigyn winced. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“No apologies necessary,” Loki said, and then, to Thor’s surprise, extended his arms again. Sigyn hugged him with less force, this time, though no less enthusiasm. Even Tala joined in, hugging the two of them. She was tall enough to place her chin on top of Loki’s head, and did so without hesitation. 

When Loki had spoken of friends, Thor had expected—the other kind. The kind that Loki tended to make, who would stab you unless you paid the price. And then they stabbed someone else _for_ you. These people were—friendly friends. 

Thor was feeling distinctly out of place. 

“Oh,” Sigyn said, as if she had heard Thor’s thoughts. She disentangled herself from the threeway hug and beamed at Thor. “We’re being so rude. Loki said he was travelling with someone.”

“Yes,” Thor said, “I’m his—”

“Husband,” Loki said quickly. 

Sigyn’s eyes went wide. Thor shot Loki a confused look. There was no need to pretend anymore, not with these people. What was he doing?

“Loki!” Sigyn squealed, loud enough that Aleksei shouted, “Do you _want_ the empire troops to hear us out here?” from the other room.

Sigyn ignored him, clapping her hands together with excitement. “Is _that_ what you’ve been up to? I mean. I know you must have been up to other things. I don’t believe Leksi when he says you’ve betrayed us, of course, you must have your reasons but—”

“He’s Thor Odinson,” Loki said. 

Sigyn’s mouth snapped shut. She gave Thor a wary look, and looked back at Loki, smiling nervously. 

“You...you must have your reasons,” she said. She reached out and clasped Loki’s hands in hers, squeezing them. “You have to tell me everything.”

“Later,” Tala said, though she also gave Thor a look, thumbing the trigger of her shotgun. Thor took it for the warning that it was, though he had no idea what it was _for_. 

“They can tell their story when we’re all safely back in Havalia.”

“Havalia?” Thor asked. “No, we have to get back to our ship. It’s on the edge of the Elarian spacefield, I can give you the coordinates—”

“Loki told us about your fuel problem,” Tala said. “You want fuel, you go to Havalia. Otherwise we can drop you off and leave you stranded.”

“Take us there,” Loki said. 

Thor huffed, crossing his arms. 

“Oho, a lover’s spat,” Tala cackled as she walked through to the other room.

“Leksi! Silvertongue’s up and gotten married to royalty. You should congratulate him!”

“Of course he has,” Thor heard Aleksei say. “You’ve outdone yourself, Silvertongue! A traitor twice over. Kire will love to hear it.”

“You _trust_ these people?” Thor grunted, when Sigyn had left the room with another worried smile for Loki. 

“It will only be a short while,” Loki said, soothing. “ _These people_ saved our lives. I owe them that twice over now.”

Thor raised an eyebrow. He knew what Loki was doing, baiting him with the promise of an explanation that was too good to deny.

He sighed.

“Havalia it is.”

\--

The trip was a quick but awkward one. Thor sat squished into a seat with Loki, with Tala and Sigyn sharing another seat, and Aleksei piloting. It was uncomfortable without the fact that Loki was brimming with tension beside him. 

Thor tried to dispel it by rubbing a hand between Loki’s shoulders, but that only seemed to make things worse—Loki relaxed for a moment before hissing, “ _Don’t_ ,” under his breath and stiffening up considerably.

Thor kept his hand away after that.

The moon came into view after about half an hour—Alexei used his hyperjump, complaining about it all the while—and the city about fifteen minutes after that. Thor could tell at once how different it was from Rivan. There was no shining, gleaming metropolis here. Shanty houses built on dusty red roads. Parched trees speckled the landscape, which was lined with rail tracks and dotted with caves carved into the side of mountains. 

“Odrium mines,” Tala said, before Thor could ask. “Most valuable fuel this side of the galaxy. The whole moon’s built on rivers of red gold. ‘Course, all of it goes to Elari.”

“It’s not much,” Sigyn said, as the ship headed towards one of the caves, “but it’s home.” After a series of turns in a darkness only broken up by meagre torches set against the ochre walls, the ship made a sharp veer into what looked like a sheer rock wall. 

They were heading for it at full speed.

Thor swore under his breath, hands clenching on the seat rest and Loki’s arm, bracing himself—as the ship broke out into the open air, descending into a bright green clearing that was a sharp contrast to the bone-dry town outside. Behind them, the rock illusion sizzled and wavered, but then stabilized.

“Home sweet home,” Aleksei said, dry. The ship gave a shudder as he cut the engines and landed on a patch of verdant grass. 

Loki stood up immediately, untangling himself from Thor and making his way to the back of the ship. Tala and Aleksei exited first, and Sigyn gave Loki’s hand another squeeze before she ran down the ramp into the clearing. 

Loki waited for Thor to make his way, and offered a hand for Thor to take.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Loki said, as Thor reluctantly took his hand. “You’ll learn everything as soon as we talk to the...to our rescuers. Their leader will be waiting for us.”

Thor tugged Loki closer with a strong grip, looking him in the eye and saying, “No more secrets, brother.”

“No more,” Loki agreed. “Except perhaps one, husband. But you can be in on this one.”

“Loki,” Thor groaned, but let Loki drag him off the ship by the hand.

As they descended the ramp of the ship, Thor tilted his head towards the sunlight, which streamed down upon them from a massive hole high above them. The whole place seemed to have been carved out of the insides of a mountain, a cone with its top lopped off. 

All around them, people milled about. There were a few house-like structures strewn all over the clearing, and a river ran through the center of it. Across the hulking mountain walls shone large deposits of an oily red crystal. Odrium, Thor supposed. Fuel. His heart lurched suddenly, remembering the Statesman. He and Loki needed to get ahold of fuel, hitch a ride on Aleksei’s ship, and return to their people. 

People stared at them as they walked through the settlement, following their rescuers to a small, round building. Loki’s hand was sweating, and Thor squeezed it gently before they ducked into the building. 

They were greeted by their own faces, projected on a holoscreen at the end of the room, past a circular arrangement of chairs. 

“So,” said the man who sat at the farthest end of the table from them. “Our prodigal brother has returned, and he brings Thor Odinson with him.” Beside him sat a plump woman, skin as brown as fresh earth, her hands laced together on top of table. 

THOR AND LOKI ODINSON, PRESUMED DEAD IN A DEVASTATING RAIL ACCIDENT, the holo-screen announced, along with a video of the rail car wreckage. 

Thor’s stomach twisted.

“Kire, Biya,” Loki said, letting go of Thor’s hand and inclining his head towards the man and the woman. “I can vouch for him.”

“You can barely vouch for yourself,” Aleksei scoffed, roughly shouldering past Thor. 

“We don’t mean to stay,” Thor said, offended despite himself. He had no idea who these people were, or why they seemed so contemptuous of him. “All we need is some fuel and safe passage and we can be on our way—”

“Not until your _husband_ returns what is owed us,” Aleksei growled. 

Kire put a calming hand on his shoulder as he stood up. 

“Aleksei, I told you I don’t have it,” Loki said, spreading his palms, as if to show how empty they were. “I can explain. I ran into someone—”

“Or you sold it for a hefty profit, and evidently found yourself a prince to marry,” Aleksei sneered.

“I was _one of you_ ,” Loki said, voice shaking. “I never would have betrayed you, and if you think my loyalty so easily bought—”

Thor’s heart clenched at the raw emotion in Loki’s voice. This went beyond sincerity. Loki rarely spoke like this. 

Unbidden, Thor thought: _I could have done it, father!_ Remembered Loki hanging over the edge, holding on by a thread. He tucked the thought into the confusing swirl of thoughts in his head. There were other matters at hand: beside him, Loki was shaking. 

Thor fought to keep his voice calm as he said, “Will someone _please_ tell me what is going on.”

“Keeping secrets from your own lover, eh, Loki?” Aleksei laughed. “Come, then, Silvertongue, tell us your story.”

“I’ll explain from the beginning,” Loki said, his voice paper-thin. Like it would tear apart at the slightest breeze. He didn’t look at Thor, even as he said, “Thor deserves to know.”

He looked down at his hands, and Thor saw them trembling.

“Sit,” Kire said, gesturing at the chairs around the table. “I suspect you’re going to need it.”


	5. Chapter 5

When Loki fell, he fell for a long time. 

Anger, sorrow, madness, all these faded away into a bone-deep, soul-deep exhaustion after a while. There was no emotion in the void. There was nothing at all. 

Loki fell for a long time, and then he landed on Havalia, right through the hole in the Sinraine Mountain, crashing in the middle of a revolutionary settlement. 

When he came to, it was Sigyn’s face staring down at him.

“You’re awake!” she said, delighted. She flitted around him, humming as she fixed the threadbare sheets on the pallet he lay on. 

“Kire is very busy today, but he’ll be glad to know you’ve woken up,” she continued.

Loki looked down on himself, and felt a cold ball of dread coalesce in his chest. His hands—his skin—he was blue. Jotun. The void had stripped him of every last thing. 

He opened his mouth to speak, maybe to sob, but only air left his lips. 

“Careful, now,” said Sigyn, bringing over a cup. Water spilled over its rim, and Loki was struck with a sudden, sharp thirst. He had never been so parched in his life.

“Slow!” Sigyn reprimanded, as Loki pushed himself up on shaking limbs, chasing the cup as she brought it close. She held the cup to his mouth, and it was all he could do to muster up the strength to stay sitting up.

The water felt like a mere drop of rain upon a vast, lonely desert.

Loki thirsted. He ached.

He looked down at his hands, blue. Jotun. Naked. Lost.

And though there was no water left in the desert of his soul, Loki put his head in his hands, and began to weep.

\--

The rebels stationed in Havalia had been fighting the Elarian empire for two decades, with little progress. They had all given up the names of their families, of their kin, for there was no brotherhood but for the revolution. 

As for Loki, his story was simple but sorrowful, designed to ingratiate himself among these men and women who all carried the wounds and scars of a hard life.

(And here, Loki looked askance at Thor, willing him to be silent.)

He had been taken as a child from the realm of his birth, he told the rebels, brought up by a family that was not his own. Nurtured, but not loved. Provided for, but not accepted, not truly. Lied to, everyday of his life. Deprived of his true nature, of his culture, of his home. Taught to hate his own people.

There had been no recourse, not for him, not when he learned the truth. But perhaps there could be a chance for a new life.

(This was not, Thor realized, just another story Loki had spun to manipulate people, as he had expected. This was the truth, or at the very least, one version of it. Hearing it that way from his brother made Thor’s heart grow heavy. The taste of ash was in his mouth.)

“Quite an entrance you made there,” Kire said to him in greeting, when he was strong enough to walk. He was a large man, and broad. His hands were rough, Loki would learn, from a life of working the mines. As a child, he and his siblings had been sent ahead of the men, carrying torches to look for bad air. He’d lost a sister and two brothers like that. 

The rebels invited Loki to sit with them as they gathered around a fire, swilling bad wine and talking of their plans. There was little hope of winning against the Empire. They recounted tales of men and women who had tried to negotiate with their oppressors, taken away to Elari and returned to Havalia with eyes a too-bright shade of blue, and all the fight gone out of them. 

The Empire called these people the Tranquil: docile, blank. No rage, no sorrow, no joy. Nothing more than cows grazing in a field. 

The rebels called them, simply, Blue-Eyes.

“And what is to be your role here, my friend?” Kire asked. He had been the only man to take in Loki’s blue skin and not flinch. Loki had still not managed to recover his seidr enough to cast a glamour, much less change his form. 

“You’re letting me stay?”

“For as long as you would like. You are our brother now.”

Loki pondered those words for a moment, heart twisting. He was dead to his family, and it was for the best.

“I can fight,” Loki said. The wine burned his throat as it went down, truly awful, but enough to warm his cold, tired limbs. 

“We have many fighters,” Kire said. “We could have a hundred thousand fighters and that still would not be enough.”

“I know seidr,” Loki said. 

“Bless you,” Sigyn said, beside him. 

Loki cleared his throat. “It is...science of a sort. Magic, in other realms.”

Kire’s eyes flickered, reflecting more than just the fire before him.

“What can you do with this...seidr?” Kire asked.

“I can kill a man,” Loki said, soft.    
  
“Can you put one together?”

\--

Loki was not trained in healing magic beyond the basics. Aesir were a sturdy people, and had not been at war, not properly, for a millennia. Healing was tedious, and it required a certain selflessness that Loki had no interest in cultivating.

Biya was gifted with seidr herself, though she called it  _ l’ik-ha _ in her language. Creation, she said. Because it flowed through all things, and all things were filled with it.

It was so good, Loki thought, to be able to talk to a seidr-weaver in a strange, new land.

Healing magic was complex, Biya explained, because the universe loved chaos. Entropy. All time flowed towards destruction, towards collapse; that was why it moved, and we moved with it. And yet we lived, and breathed, and flourished, and created, despite moving along with time. Seidr was not the opposite of chaos, but its complement.

And this, Loki understood better than anyone.

Loki was not much of a healer, but he could prod the body into stitching skin and muscle and bone back together. There was a wild, eager desperation in the body to cling to life that made it easier for seidr to stick, to seep into the cracks and grow roots and knit the pieces back together. 

It took time, but it was doable. The fact of the matter was that the body was better at healing itself than most people realized. 

The mind was a different object. 

Loki didn’t think it was even worth trying, but these people had saved his life. Had welcomed him with open arms. 

And Kire had almost begged. 

Loki could not say no.

When the Tranquil, the Blue-Eyes, returned, they were often content, filled with shallow pleasure, easily agreeable. And whose right was it really, to deny them of that state of being? 

But when Aleksei was returned from Elari, he was not agreeable, nor content, nor filled with pleasure. He fought whatever had been done to him, volatile and angry in one moment, and slow and quiet in the next. 

Perhaps it was because Loki knew what it was like to have a mind that was cracked in two.

Perhaps it was because his seidr returned to him precisely on the day that Aleksei, his one eye glazed an impossibly bright blue and his steps slow and dazed, wandered into the infirmary where Loki was grinding herbs.

Perhaps it was because the Norns loved irony, and to have Loki heal a person’s mind when his was filled with rifts and canyons would have had them in stitches. 

Whatever the reason, Loki had reached out with two blue hands, and placed them on Aleksei’s temples. 

“Help me,” Aleksei had said, reaching up to cover Loki’s hands with his.

It was surprisingly easy work, to find the pieces of Aleksei’s mind and put them back together. Whatever they had done to him on Elari was poor work: the man was passion personified, and Loki could easily see where they had patched over his memories. The reality of him burned so much brighter, almost blinding.

In Loki’s experience, only one other person had a mind like this. 

When they came to, hours later, Sigyn was fretting over the both of them.

When Aleksei opened his eye, slow, as if from a years-long slumber, it was brown.

\--

After that, there was no question of Loki’s intent or his place.

Loki was welcomed into the settlement—and he welcomed them. 

Anger, sorrow, a hint of madness: these were traits that made a good revolutionary, after all.

A son to the crown, working to dismantle an empire, making his bed with miners, tradespeople, soldiers.

Honest men, when Loki was not.

Perhaps, with time, he could be. 

\--

Loki knew almost at once that only one thing could alter people like this. The Elarian Empire was possessed of an Infinity Stone. 

He had been a scholar on Asgard, he said. The previous king, Bor, son of Buri, was said to have destroyed an Infinity Stone after the war with the Dark Elves. If they could find the one held by the Empire, they could destroy it too. It would not end their rule, but it would be the end of people coming home with their minds picked apart and put together wrong, doe-eyed and vulnerable as newly-fawned deer. 

A plan was set into motion, with Loki as the centerpoint. 

And they had succeeded, up until the last moment. 

If the Infinity Stone could be used on common men, it could be used on a god, as well.

Loki, in the heart of the Elarian Empire, plucked the Mind Stone from its pedestal. 

From the darkness, there was a low chuckle.

“Good,” said the Mad Titan. 

“Let’s see you do that again, shall we?”


	6. Chapter 6

There was silence in the room. Loki was slumped in his seat, a hand over his face. 

_Who controls the would-be king?_

The answer shook Thor to the core. 

“Where is it?” 

Thor blinked, looking up at the source of the voice.

Aleksei was staring at Loki.

“What happened to the Mind Stone?”

“It is on Midgard,” Thor said, realization blooming in his mind. “It is in safe hands.”

Kire sighed, leaning against his chair. “That is as much as we could have hoped for.”

“You believe them?” Aleksei asked, venomous. His chair clattered to the ground as he stood up abruptly. “This story is ludicrous. The Mad Titan is a myth!”

Before Thor could act, Aleksei strode over and pulled Loki from his seat, a hand fisted in Loki’s clothes. 

“And you, Silvertongue, are a _liar_!” Aleksei hissed into Loki’s face, shaking him roughly. “Tell us where it is! Tell us what you betrayed us for!”

Sigyn cried out as Thor stood, lightning crackling from his fingers, and tore Aleksei from his brother, shoving him hard against the closest wall. 

There was the sound of blasters being unholstered.

Thor bared his teeth, gaze focused on Aleksei. “Touch him again, and I’ll rip your arms off,” he growled.

“Thor,” Loki said, “it’s okay. It’s okay, beloved.” He put a placating hand on Thor’s shoulder, then on Thor’s fists, stroking until Thor swallowed his anger and released Aleksei.

“Leksi,” Loki said, extending a hand. “Come, then, if you wish to know. We’ve both been tainted by the same power, now. You can feel it, can’t you?”

“Tricks,” Aleksei spat out. “Tricks and illusions, that’s all you are.”

“I saw him,” Thor said, turning to face the room, the blasters aimed at him.

“I saw Loki on Midgard, with the Mind Stone locked into a scepter. He was not himself. He did...terrible things. I did not understand then. I understand now.”

Another silence filled the room, more expansive than the first. It seemed to fill every crevice. Thor could not bring himself to speak.

Outside, an alarm began wailing.

Thor startled as everyone else in the room stiffened and turned towards the door.

Tala’s communicator crackled to life and Thor caught words through the static: _explosion, collapse, injured._

“We’re on our way,” Tala barked into her communicator. To Kire: “Mine Six. Collapse in mineshaft 27. There’s fire.”

“Load the ship,” Kire said. Then he turned to Thor.

“You can make yourself useful, Odinson.”

\--

They flew. Thor opted to stand, letting Loki take a full seat. Kire, Biya and Tala prepared tools and medical supplies in the bay. 

The ship had to be left at the entrance of the mine; the rest of it was traversable only by foot.

It took them over an hour to walk to the site of the collapse. It had happened deep inside, trapping over fifty miners in the darkness, under a precarious load of debris that could give at any moment. Through the communicator, they learned there were at least half a dozen injured. They were running out of time. 

Sigyn handed Thor a mask to deal with the smoke, but the heat and the lack of space made him feel lightheaded. They pushed inwards on foot, carefully making their way to the collapsed mineshaft. There was little talk, and tension hummed through the group. 

As they walked, Thor observed the walls, which were speckled with sharp wedges of odrium, jutting out from the earth like broken bones. They shone with a sickly sheen when torch-light sluiced over them.

Sigyn began to chatter as they snaked through the dank, dark cave, trying to fill the oppressive darkness. Odrium was a precious but volatile ore, prone to flammability with the wrong handling. It was this same volatility that, when distilled into fuel, made it so potent. It should have made these miners rich. Instead, they lay under rubble and dirt, with no assistance from the Empire forthcoming. 

“Can’t expect anything from those Empire bastards,” Aleksei scoffed, when Thor asked if they couldn’t call for help. “That’s why we’re here.”

Their footsteps came to a halt with a soft patter. They shone their torches on the wall of stone and rock that extended far above their heads. As they did so, bits of crumbled rock rained down the wall. 

At times like this, Thor _really_ missed Mjolnir. There were just some things that required a good smashing. 

“Loki,” Kire said, nodding towards the rubble.

“Careful now,” Tala said, as Loki stepped forward. He began to run his hands across the stone wall, gently prodding at cracks. 

“I can do it,” Loki said, taking a step back. His face took on a look of concentration. 

Thor’s brow furrowed. Was Loki going to blast the wall in?

Loki didn’t look at him. Didn’t so much as glance in his direction as his hands began, slowly, to turn blue. 

“It used to take us so much time, before,” Sigyn said softly, nodding towards Loki. “We’d spend days excavating…”

But not with Loki’s seidr. Not with the ice that began to spread from his hands. The ice crept into the cracks between the rocks, holding them together while wedging them apart. Frost insinuated into the porous, cracked surface, making it brittle. 

It took Loki the better part of an hour to cover the whole rock wall with ice, and by the time he was done, his entire body had turned blue. Jotun blue, with markings that wound delicately across his face and hands. 

Thor looked away as Loki stepped back, breathing hard. As soon as he took his hands off the rock wall, his Jotun skin began to recede, replaced by pale Aesir flesh.

Kire began to give instructions, telling them where to begin carving the rock, and how. 

Thor pressed a gentle hand to Loki’s shoulder as he gathered himself. 

“Are you all right?” Thor asked. 

Loki was still blue under his eyes, behind his ears.

“Fine,” Loki said, rolling his shoulders. He still didn’t look at Thor. “Get a drill and start helping.”

\--

It was a gruesome scene. 

Sigyn ran in first as soon as they had carved out enough rock for her to squirrel through. By the time Thor could shoulder his way in, she was already on her knees, bandages out, patching up the men. Kire accepted his help in lifting a large boulder off of someone’s crushed leg, and Thor tried not to wince when the man’s eyes rolled back in pain. Unsalvageable. 

There was a choking smoke and a darkness that pressed in on them from all sides. Worst of all, grim silence from the men in the shaft, as if they had been through this before. Thor’s head pounded. Loki was helping Biya with the wounded, his hands glowing green. 

One by one, they helped the miners out of the cave-in, carrying those who could not walk, helping along those who could.

They worked through the night. Thor was muddied and exhausted, having scraped through dirt, bandaged wounds, gone back and forth carrying shell-shocked miners through the winding path that led in and out of the cave. 

Kire spoke with the men after they had gotten out of the cave. 

To Thor’s surprise, one of them spat at his feet. 

The man was gently guided away by his companions, and one man shook Kire’s hand as they walked away, bringing their wounded down the winding slope that led to the sparse city below. 

The Sinraine Mountain was a welcome sight as daylight spread through the sky, rosy and warm. They stumbled off the ship, and Sigyn led Thor and Loki to one of the structures scattered across the clearing. Inside was a dormitory with sparse but adequate chambers. Other rebel settlers watched them curiously as they made their way to an empty room, but no one bothered them.

One particle shower later, Thor was clean, and he fell asleep before his thoughts could keep him awake.

He did not feel Loki come to bed. 

\--

Thor woke in the middle of the day to find that he and Loki had tangled themselves together in their sleep. His brother’s hair was flung across his face, and Thor gently moved it away, making sure not to wake Loki. 

He slept again, and then did not wake until the half of the Elarian moons that could be seen from Havalia had risen. 

Loki had turned away in his sleep, taking the blanket with him, and so Thor slipped easily out of bed, tugging on his boots and walking out into the balmy evening.

Kire beckoned him over to a small gathering around a nearby fire, but when Thor sat down on a bowed log, Aleksei stood up, spitting into the flame before leaving.

Thor accepted the tin cup of dark liquid that Kire handed to him.

“You’ll have to forgive him,” Kire said. “He hates royalty.”

“And Aesir,” Tala said.

“And Aesir royalty,” Sigyn said. 

“ _Imperialist_ royalty,” Biya said. 

“It’s really the royalty part that gets his goat, to be fair,” Kire said.

“He’ll be happy to know that Asgard is gone then,” Thor said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

“Oh,” Biya laughed, unrepentant. “He was. There were celebrations across the galaxy, Odinson.”

“Peace, Biya,” Kire said, taking pity on Thor. “Leksi has his reasons. Asgard is not well-loved amongst those who fight for freedom.”

 _The whole golden sham_ , Thor thought. 

He nodded, then brought his drink to his nose and took a sniff. It smelled heavily, clinically alcoholic. He took a swig, and coughed, hard. The stuff scorched his throat as it went down, worse than any wine Thor had had.

Tala laughed, clapping him on the back.

“You’re not so bad though, are you, Odinson? You take miner’s swill well enough.”

“It’s good,” Thor lied, and took another drink, coughing it up as soon as he’d swallowed. The thing never seemed to go down smoother, no matter how many gulps Thor took. 

“It’s worse than piss,” Tala said cheerfully. 

“Only the best for a king,” Kire said, lifting his cup with a laugh. The others raised their cups too, and Thor reluctantly joined in, understanding why Loki had pretended they were married. These people would have killed them themselves if they knew the truth of Loki’s life, and his relation to the Aesir throne.

“You did good work down in the mines, though,” Kire said. “I thank you for it.”

“Those were good men,” Thor said. “Hardworking men. I am glad to have been able to help.”

“Now how did Silvertongue end up with a fella like you?” Sigyn cooed. “Not bad, even for royalty.”

“Did he try to steal from you?” Tala asked. “Once met a couple like that.”

“You call him Silvertongue,” Thor said, over any more talk of his and Loki’s would-be romance. “Why?”

“He couldn’t talk when he first arrived,” Sigyn said, smiling fondly at the memory. “It was a joke that stuck. He really does have a silver tongue, though, doesn’t he?”

“Downright _mellifluous_ , wouldn’t you say, Odinson?” Tala grinned.

“It’s certainly...something,” Thor said, and took another swig of his drink.

“Is he blushing? I think he’s blushing,” Sigyn said, in a mock-whisper.

“Now, Sigyn, don’t you go teasing him. Poor man’s only been wed a couple days. Did you even get a wedding night, Odinson?” Even Kire was joining in. 

Thor was saved from the need to answer by Loki’s voice cutting into the conversation.

“If you’ve all finished interrogating him,” he said, appearing at Thor’s shoulder. 

Sigyn laughed as she made room, patting a space on the log as she shuffled over. 

“We’re just getting started,” she said cheerfully.

Loki’s body was warm as he sat next to Thor, and he seemed calm. Languid, even, as he took the cup from Thor’s slack fingers and brought it to his mouth.

He didn’t cough at all, sipping the alcohol like it was the finest Vanir wine. 

“Kire,” Thor asked, now that there was a lull in the conversation, “that man from the mines, why did he spit at your feet?”

Kire winced, rubbing a hand through his face. “Less and less help’s coming in from Elari these days. Less money, too, with the tariff they’ve put on odrium. People think it’s because of rebel activity.”

“More soldiers, too,” Sigyn said, worriedly. “More and more coming in by the month.”

“Since the Infinity Stone disappeared, I presume,” Loki said. 

“They’re trying to keep control the way they know how,” Tala said. 

“But something’s going to give,” Kire said. “And when it does…”

“Will you fight with us, Silvertongue?”

Loki downed the last of Thor’s drink, tipping his chin to get to the dregs. 

Thor realized, in that moment, that this was what Loki had been planning all along. The final piece slid into the puzzle that Thor had not even known he was putting together.

“Yes,” Loki said, staring down at the empty cup, “I would fight by your side to the end.”

\--

“I thought I could be happy here,” Loki said, when the fire had been doused and the others had gone to sleep. Thor and Loki were sitting beside the smoldering remains of the fire, letting the chill of the night seep through their clothing.

“I think I was,” he continued. “Happy, I mean. It took me a while to realize, but only because I think I’d forgotten at some point what it was like.”

“I didn’t know you were so unhappy on Asgard,” Thor said. This whole night, it had been as if two Asgards had existed. One was that which Thor held dear: his home, his people, the source and setting of many of his happiest days. And the other was its shadow: the bitter conqueror, despised across the galaxy. 

And now, Loki speaking of Asgard as if he had never known happiness there.

“You wouldn’t have known,” Loki said, sharp. “You were always... _you_ were happy, so everyone else must have been.”

“You were a _prince_ , Loki, your life was hardly full of hardship—”

“Don’t you dare presume to tell me how I should feel—”

“Well, Asgard is gone, so you should be happy. Celebrate. The way you would have celebrated had you been here! Asgard is _gone_ , and everything with it, and everyone should be thanking me for it—”

“Thor.”

Thor heaved in a breath, and realized he was panting, his hand clutched to his chest, his vision blurry with tears.

He buried his face in his hands and gave one long shudder. 

Loki’s hand rested between his shoulder blades, rubbing. 

“I’m sorry,” Loki said. 

Thor shook his head. “I didn’t know you were—so miserable. I thought we were happy.”

“We were. I was. It is only...none of it was real anymore, Thor, not to me. Not after...not after.”

Thor took in another shuddering breath. 

“Why did you take me here, Loki?”

“To help. These people need me. They could use you. I owe them my life, and I’ve already failed them once.”

“Why didn’t you just go? The Commodore was there, you could have just...left.” Even as he spoke the words, the _idea_ of it made something bitter and sour curl in Thor’s stomach. He could not have borne it, if Loki had disappeared one morning. How long would it have been until Thor noticed? A day? A week? 

Loki had been so close to being gone, and Thor would have had to live with it.

“Could I have?” Loki asked. “I told you I would stay. I tried. I didn’t...I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving with no explanation. I needed you to see.”

“See what?”

“Why I can’t go back with you.”

Thor felt the breath punched out of him. 

He was going to lose Loki all over again. 

“Thor, breathe. Brother.”

“I’m not,” Thor said, high and tight. “I’m not, though, am I? These people—they’ve been better siblings to you than I could ever be. I’m sorry for that, I suppose. I tried, Loki, I really—I’m sorry.”

“You dramatic fool,” Loki sighed, and Thor blinked as Loki drew him into his arms. He squirmed slightly, and Loki tugged at his hair.

“Hush. This is called hugging. I’ve heard that siblings do it.”

Thor shifted, but it didn’t look like Loki was letting go anytime soon. He settled into it, letting his brother take his weight. Loki looked downright lithe next to Thor, but he was so solid, and he buoyed Thor easily in his embrace.

“I’m sorry,” Loki sighed, after a moment. “I should have just gone. Left a note or something. Instead I find more ways to hurt you. I told myself I would stop.”

“It’s okay,” Thor said.

“I honestly didn’t _mean_ to,” Loki said, sounding earnest. “I only meant to get off that rotten ship for a few days...but one thing led to another, and we were so close to Havalia…”

“Did you hate it so much?” Thor asked, “being on the ship?”

“I fell through the void for a long time,” Loki said, his voice soft. “I do not—it brings me no joy to look upon it.”

“The Mad Titan,” Thor started and didn’t know what else to say. He tried: “If what you say is true—” then stopped himself, feeling Loki flinch. 

“I’m sorry,” Thor said, wincing. Remembering Loki, in a windowless room. Loki, wide-eyed and panicked after being flung into space during their rescue from the rail. 

“It’s all right,” Loki said lightly.

“I should have known,” Thor said, bitterness on his tongue. “I should have realized—”

“I didn’t make it easy on you, brother. The Mad Titan warped my mind. But he only used the things that were already there in the first place.”

Thor shook his head, barreling on.

“What matters now is that he will never harm you again. Not if I have anything to say about it. And I’m sorry anyway. For many other things.”

There was a silence, then, fragile as glass. Then Loki spoke.

“As am I. I truly didn’t mean to get us into this much trouble.”

Thor snorted.

“It’s okay,” he said again. “I don’t care if you faked the Statesman’s fuel problem, had us arrested on Rivan, and concocted an absurd rescue just to meet your friends.”

Loki was silent.

“I don’t care _that_ you did all those things,” Thor amended. 

“You’ve always been too forgiving,” Loki said. He finally loosened his arms so Thor could sit up.

“I’ll do you one better,” Thor said, and placed a hand on Loki’s knee.

“I’ll stay with you until your business here is done.”

He felt Loki stiffen, and he turned to Thor so fast his hair whipped around.

“You would stay with me?”

“What kind of husband would I be if I left?” Thor said, smiling weakly.

The smile that spread on Loki’s face, too wide, as if he couldn’t help himself, was enough to drown out every voice in Thor’s head that told him this was a bad idea.

“Just like old times,” Loki said, echoing Thor from days before. His eyes shone.

He looked _happy_. 

“Oh, Leksi’s going to be pleased,” Loki laughed, turning away.

Thor found himself laughing with him. 


	7. Chapter 7

“...and we’ll meet you when our business is done, whether you’re on Earth or still travelling.”

Heimdall’s gaze stayed calmly, placidly, on Thor’s face, and Thor tamped down the urge to squirm. It seemed to be an ingrained reaction now. 

“You wouldn’t rather have us come to you?” Heimdall asked.

Thor hesitated, then shook his head. 

“I would rather have you in friendly territory as quickly as possible,” Thor said. 

Another long, steady stare. 

When Thor had been younger, such stares were enough to have him bumbling, filling in the oppressive silence with too many words, often giving away whatever he was attempting to hide.

Now, Thor had nothing to hide. It did not lessen the urge to babble.

Finally, Heimdall nodded. 

“We will see you soon, Your Majesty,” he said. 

Thor cut out the communication screen as Loki entered the room. The bottom of his boots were muddy, and he insisted on tracking dirt into the room every time he returned from outside, where it had been raining incessantly for the past few days. Thor had grown tired of reminding him to _just take off his boots at the door_ , and only sighed. 

There was a reason they had stopped sharing rooms as they’d grown older. 

“You can still go with them,” Loki said, nodding towards the black, empty screen. He sat heavily down upon the bed (Thor’s side of the bed, Thor noted), and began to tug off his boots. 

In their few days at Havalia, they’d both started dressing like the locals, in thick, practical mining trousers and dark shirts. That, along with the grime they accumulated throughout the day while they helped out at the settlement, gave them a particularly rustic look. 

Thor thought it made them look disconcertingly human. 

Thor watched as Loki finished tugging off his boots and flopped onto his back on the bed. 

“I said I’d stay,” Thor said.

Loki nodded. “Kire wants to talk to you.” 

Loki was spending a lot of time with the inner rebel group, involved in meetings and conversations that Thor was not privy to. Thor didn’t mind. He spent his time talking to the locals at the settlement, unloading shipments of sustenance bars that arrived from town, and helping tend to the small fields that the rebels grew for a taste of real food. 

“What do you think he wants?” Thor asked.

Loki’s face grew serious. 

“We’ve been talking,” he said. “The rebels have come up with a plan—”

An alarm rang, shrill and insistent.

Thor and Loki snapped to attention. 

Thor had become accustomed, by now, to that signal.

In this week alone, there had been two more cave-ins. The weather wasn’t helping. Neither was the Empire, which was increasing their demand for odrium week by week. 

Loki stood up, and they made their way outside.

The talk with Kire could wait.

\--

“They’re going to need to be taken into town.”

Aleksei’s tone was urgent, almost frantic, the closest Thor had heard to him expressing an emotion that wasn’t dry disgust. Thor watched as Biya continued to steadily bandage the gruesome wound on one of the miner’s shoulders. The man heaved in a breath through gritted teeth, the rasp of it sounding far too loud in the rocky cavern. 

The cave-in had happened in two sections this time. A second group was buried deeper in the mine. The first group had only two survivors left, both at the brink of death. They had been trapped with the dead bodies of their friends for hours before they’d been found. 

“Loki and I will take them,” Thor said. 

Loki glanced at him sharply. “The town’s swarming with military. If we’re recognized, they’re not letting us get away again.”

“If the _rebels_ are recognized, they can’t fight their way out of it,” Thor said, imploring Kire to listen.

“You remember your way around town?” Kire asked. 

Loki hesitated, then nodded. “I remember the hospital.”

“We’ll drop the men off, and then come back. In and out. We’ll be quick,” Thor said. 

“Sounds familiar,” Loki said under his breath. Then he turned to Thor and drew his face close before Thor could react.

“What are you—?” Thor asked, trying not to pull away. Loki closed his eyes, seeming to concentrate. His brow furrowed. 

It had been a few days since they had touched like this. They kept a clear demarcation between them on the bed and Thor had taken to relinquishing his hold on the blankets to keep Loki from migrating towards him every night. He couldn’t help but think of the way Loki’s dirt-stained hands would leave streaks of soil on his face. 

Thor felt a tingle go over his features, and when Loki pulled away, Thor raised a hand to his cheek. He felt nothing but fine dust under his fingers.

“Just a little glamour to make sure people don’t look too closely,” Loki said. He knelt down and took the two miners by their hands. 

“Put your hand on my shoulder,” he said. “This might get a little bumpy.” 

“Be safe,” Kire said, as Thor did what Loki commanded. 

A blue light ensconced them, and, in the space between one blink, Thor found himself squinting in the bright sunshine of the world outside. They were standing on a dusty road, in front of a building—a generous term for what it was, which was a shack—that looked one gentle push away from crumbling entirely.

A painted sign that hung sideways atop the splintered structure said: Hospital of Central Havalia. 

\--

The plan was supposed to be simple, like all of Thor’s plans. Take the men to the hospital, make sure they were noticed, leave before anyone could notice _them_. 

The first two phases of the plan had been executed, and Thor and Loki were leaving the triage area, about to make their escape, when the doors of the hospital burst open and a swarm of Imperial soldiers came ambling in. 

Loki and Thor froze in unison, turning around and tucking themselves into the crowd of people. Dozens of sick, poor and wounded townspeople, all waiting for their turn to be seen by the single doctor in town. 

Said doctor was in the midst of an operation that was happening in a corner of the room, with the patient being held down by two men, his mouth stuffed with a piece of leather that he could bite into. 

It didn’t quite muffle his screams.

Thor had heard the doctor complain earlier about the lack of anesthetic—supplies either came late, never came at all, or—

“I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

One of the men stepped forward—a nurse who had helped Thor and Loki settle the wounded miners into makeshift beds, and hadn’t asked questions—and stood squarely in front of the soldier at the head of the pack.

“Routine check,” the soldier said, pushing the man aside. “We have reason to believe that rebels caused the cave-in at the mine today. Have any suspicious men come in?”

A trickle of sweat slid down Thor’s neck. He and Loki could take those men in a fight, but he didn’t want to cause a scene. Didn’t want to hurt anyone else in the room. 

He tried to meet Loki’s eyes, but Loki was staring straight ahead. 

Thor clenched his fists, keeping them at his sides. 

The man stepped in front of the soldier, and said again, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir.”

“We have business here,” the soldier said.

The man’s expression hardened. “We are honest people, simply trying to live our lives. I don’t know what business you have with us—”

A cry came up from the assembled crowd as the soldier drew a gun and pushed its muzzle into the man’s shoulder. 

For a moment, the two stared at each other, then an older nurse came and placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. 

“Do what you need to do,” the older nurse said. She extended a hand to gesture to the room. “We have nothing to hide.”

The soldier smiled and gave a two-finger salute. Then he slammed the butt of his blaster into the defiant man’s sternum, knocking him to the floor. 

The muzzle of the soldier’s gun pressed into the man’s forehead. 

The seconds ticked on.

“You pathetic lowlifes better not get cocky,” the soldier growled, “or you might find yourselves being made examples of.”

The man grit his teeth and said nothing.

Finally, the soldier pulled away, spitting on the man’s face. 

“Okay, you lot, get into a single file! Men, ID everyone in the room.”

\--

“We’ve lived here all our lives. We have a hundred acres of orchard land three miles west...”

“My husband and I run the general store downtown...our son has the flu...”

“I work here, apprenticed to the doctor…”

Thor shifted on his feet as a soldier, clad all in black, approached him and Loki. 

Loki slid a hand into Thor’s and gave him a look.

 _Follow my lead_ , it said. 

The soldier came up to them, looking them over. Thor tensed, but his face didn’t register any recognition, and his eyes seemed to slide across Thor’s features without taking him in.

“State your name and your purpose here,” the soldier said. 

As Loki prattled off a fake name and story, Thor focused on the scene in the corner of the room, where the doctor was being accosted by more soldiers. There was blood on her hands, and she kept looking over to the man left behind on the operating table. 

“And how many months are you along?”

Thor blinked. The soldier was speaking to him.

“Four,” Loki said, gesturing. “As you can see, he’s beginning to show. We just had a routine check-up.”

Thor cleared his throat. Gods. He was going to kill Loki. 

“Strange place to start a new life,” the soldier said.

“Not at all,” Thor said. “My uncle said he would find jobs for us here. Always work to be had in the mines.”

“To be sure,” the soldier said, looking Thor over. “If you weren’t with child—ah, well. We could always use men like you on the force.”

Thor blinked. “I’m honored that you think that, sir,” he said, trying to inject sincerity into his rough voice. 

The soldier nodded, then walked away. 

“You’re free to go.”

Loki turned to leave, tugging Thor along. Behind them, Thor could hear the doctor arguing, her voice going higher, louder. 

“You _can’t_ take those, those are for our patients, we don’t have enough as it is—”

“Think of it as payment for the services we render for your citizens, doc. This is what we get for keeping those rebels off your heels.”

“Please—”

There was a loud crash, and Thor flinched. 

Thor thought back to the scene in Rivan, the soldier kicking him in the stomach, not to subdue him, but because he had been, in that moment, powerless. The nurse, sprawled on the ground, unmoving as a gun pressed into his skin. The doctor, forced to leave a patient on the table. The dozens of helpless, hopeless people, being denied life-saving medication for the greed of a few soldiers.

“Leave it,” Loki said under his breath. “You can’t save them all.”

Numbly, Thor nodded, and let Loki lead them outside. 

\--

“When did your teleportation spell get so powerful?” Thor asked as they walked to find a quiet corner to disappear from. “I didn’t know you could travel such distances.”

“I’ve been practicing,” Loki said, distractedly. He led Thor into an alleyway beside the general store, and they took a moment to breathe. It was high noon, and the sun was directly above the Sinraine mountain, like a torch. In the distance, the meager fields and farms that were grown at Havalia were aflame with golden light. 

“We used to put them down,” Thor said. 

Loki blinked, raising his head.

“Rebels,” Thor said. "On Vanaheim, Alfheim.”

“Not all rebellions are like the one here,” Loki said calmly.

“I know,” Thor said heavily. “It is only...some of them could have been. I never had to think about it.”

“Well,” Loki said, not unkindly, “now you have.”

There was a shock of laughter at the mouth of the alley, and Thor’s mouth pressed into a line as a gaggle of soldiers passed by. He and Loki stayed still until they had passed.

It was not until Loki touched his arm that Thor realized how tightly he was clenching his hands. 

“I hate this,” Thor said. 

“Good,” Loki said. 

Then he drew Thor’s arm to his shoulder, and, in a burst of blue light, they vanished.


	8. Chapter 8

The conversation quieted to a lull as Thor took a seat beside Loki, accepting the plate that was handed to him—some kind of protein slurry that somehow tasted worse than it looked. Thor tried not to frown as he ran his spoon across the bowl, scraping the bottom. 

It happened often, the quieting down, as if the rebels didn’t know what to say around Thor. At least Aleksei had stopped leaving the fire every time Thor came over. 

Sigyn, bright as a star, gave Thor a small smile and said, “Did you have a good day with the children, Thor?”

Beside him, Loki choked on a spoonful of protein. 

Thor gingerly patted him on the back, nodding at Sigyn. “They were...enthusiastic.”

“You put him on _kid duty_?” Loki said. He turned to Thor. “They put you on kid duty.”

“ _Some_ of us are fine with kids,” Thor said. “It was fine. No one got hurt.” The children at the settlement, many of them orphans, were usually rounded up and put into a daycare, with a few people to look after them. Kid duty. 

It had been like herding bilgesnipe. 

“I remember _your_ first time on kid duty, Silvertongue,” Tala crowed, and then launched into a half-coherent story that everyone else seemed to follow.

Loki laughed, retorting with a story about Aleksei and cows, and so it went. 

Thor sat, and ate, and wondered if this was how Loki had felt with him and the Warriors Three. 

The rebels were not unkind to Thor. (Aleksei, who took any chance that he could get to be unkind to Thor, was the exception.) But there was the distinct understanding that they were _Loki’s_ friends, not Thor’s. 

After a brief, intense wave of grief and jealousy, Thor ended up feeling relieved. 

Loki hadn’t had many friends, growing up, and Thor hadn’t done much to remedy the situation. Some part of him had been glad of it, even—it meant that _he_ had been Loki’s closest and dearest friend. 

And Thor had taken it for granted that Loki would always be _his_. 

He hadn’t ever had to share before. Wasn’t used to it. 

But as Loki bent in half at the waist, taken over by laughter, Thor told himself it was good to have even this. It was enough just to hear his brother laugh. 

Thor would take what he could get. 

\--

“So. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Thor looked up, confused, as Aleksei took a seat on the log across from him. The fire crackled between them, lighting Aleksei’s face and hair in a way that, somehow, made him look vulnerable. Soft.

Thor knew he was not.

“Show you what?” Thor asked, straightening his back and meeting Aleksei’s gaze. Loki had invited him back to their quarters, but Thor decided to stay outside, claiming that he liked the fire…but the truth was that the idea of being alone in their quarters with Loki had set him on edge lately. 

He told himself it just needed some getting used to. They hadn’t shared rooms since they were children. Their parents had said it was because they both needed room to grow as individuals.

And truly, Thor didn’t want to invade Loki’s space more than he already had. The less reason he gave his brother to resent him, the better. 

Aleksei had been watching him silently through dinner, a look that Thor could feel like a solid weight.

Now, he didn’t reply to Thor’s question, but reached up and flipped the patch that was covering his eye. Or what would have been an eye—there were only thick, ugly scars, covering Aleksei’s socket. 

“Oh,” Thor said. Gingerly, though the wound had healed long ago, he reached up and unclasped his own eyepatch. He wondered what he looked like. Hadn’t looked at himself too closely in the mirror in a while. His old vanities, like the memories of Asgard, he had tried to push to the back of his head. 

“You mind telling me how it happened?” Aleksei asked.

“My sister,” Thor said, still unclear about the reason behind the questions. “She tried to take over Asgard. And—well.” He shrugged, and put the eyepatch back on.

Aleksei scoffed, and made some remark about the monarchy under his breath. He did this often around Thor, almost as if it were second nature. As far as Thor knew, maybe it was. The hatred of Asgard, of its imperial conquest so similar to Elari’s, was deeply embedded in some of the rebels. Kire had warned Thor of this, and he had learned to let the insults slide off his back.

“And you?” he asked instead.

Aleksei shrugged. “Nothing quite so...regicidal. The Empire tortured it out of me.”

Thor winced. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Aleksei said, as if that was that. 

They sat in silence for a moment. 

“Well,” Thor said, and made to stand up. “Look, I wanted to apologize for—”

“Do you hate him, or something?”

Thor blinked, and sat back down. This was getting more and more bizarre. 

“Excuse me?” Thor asked.

“Your _husband_ ,” Aleksei said. 

“I—what?” Thor sputtered. 

Aleksei was fixing him with a glare that was frighteningly intense. He was _angry_.

“I know Silvertongue better than most around here,” Aleksei said. “He saved my life. Did something to me, to my mind, that makes us—connected, in a way. I _owe_ him something, and I mean to pay it back.”

Thor stared at him. 

“You flinch away when he touches you. _You_ never touch _him_. Every night, he invites you back to your room and you deny him, sitting around here like some sort of hermit—”

Thor’s head spun. 

“You know I’m telling the truth. I can see it in your eyes. You’ve been caught out. What the _fuck_ are you doing with him, Odinson?”

“I do love him,” Thor said. It was the first thing he could think to say. The only thing. He would not— _could_ not let anyone make the mistake of thinking that he hated Loki. Especially not Loki himself. Gods.

“You have a strange way of showing it,” Aleksei scoffed.

“I do love him,” Thor said again, “but you’re right.”

Aleksei raised an eyebrow. 

Thor licked his lips, searching for words.

“I don’t...I don’t know how to show it. Loki and I...we were very close for a very long time.” The truth was spilling out of his mouth before he could help himself. “But we were apart...and then when we found each other again, we had changed so much.”

“And yet you married him,” Aleksei said, flat.

“I love him,” Thor said, helpless. “I—you have to understand. I thought I’d lost him. I would have given anything, _anything_ , to have him back.”

“And now that you do, you treat him like shit.”

Thor flinched. He looked down at his hands, and realized he was a fool.

The truth of it was, Aleksei wasn’t entirely wrong. They had dropped the veneer of marriage soon after they landed in Havalia, and then dropped even the motions of brotherhood. They worked separately, and though they slept in the same bed, Thor couldn’t remember when they’d last touched. They remained civil, hadn’t fought, and Thor had thought things were going well.

He hadn’t wanted to push Loki. Hadn’t wanted to take more than what Loki was willing to give.

He was just realizing what it would have looked like to everyone else. 

Like he and Loki were going through a lover’s spat instead of trying and failing to navigate the fraught, wrong-footed brotherhood they shared between them. 

“What should I do?” Thor asked. 

Aleksei sighed. “I shouldn’t even be helping you.”

Thor rubbed a hand across his face and nodded.

“You’re right. I—”

“If you love him, just show him. Don’t act like he doesn’t exist, for one. Spend time with him. _Talk_ to him.”

Thor nodded heavily. Easy things. Not so easily done.

“Loki is lucky to have you. You’re a good friend, Aleksei.”

“Hardly,” Aleksei. “Just a better friend than you.”

“I deserve that,” Thor acquiesced.

Aleksei sighed. “I know that you know that I think you’re just about the worst thing in the galaxy, right?”

Thor winced. “Thanks.”

“But he clearly loves you. And if you love him, you owe it to the both of you to make this work.”

With that, Aleksei stood, patted the dust off his pants, and left Thor alone with the fire.

\--

After a moment—or longer, Thor didn’t know how much time he’d spent pouring over Aleksei’s words—someone took Aleksei’s place.

Thor blinked. 

Across from him, Kire was rubbing his hands together. It looked like a nervous gesture.

“Can I help you?” Thor tried. 

“You just talked to Aleksei,” Kire said.

Thor nodded, and braced himself for another interrogation.

What he got instead almost made him laugh out loud.

“Did he say anything about me?”

“Afraid not,” Thor said, trying to keep his mouth from cracking into a grin.

“He did give me good advice, though,” Thor continued. 

“Oh?” Kire asked.

“Yeah. Go talk to him.”

The firelight only made it easier to see the blush on Kire’s face.

\--

“Loki?”

Loki didn’t look up from his holoscreen as Thor entered the room. 

“Brother,” Thor said. He could only ever call Loki that behind closed doors while they were in Havalia, and he’d fallen out of the habit. It was good to say it again. 

Loki raised an eyebrow and a finger to belay Thor.

Thor huffed out a laugh. He sat heavily on the bed, making Loki’s side jump, and grinned at the glare Loki shot him.

“What’s with you tonight?” Loki asked.

“Nothing,” Thor said. He finished unlacing his boots, then kicked them off. 

“Mmhm,” Loki said.

“What are you reading?” Thor asked.

Loki sighed. “What is it, Thor? What do you need?”

“Nothing,” Thor said, defensively. “I’m curious. Genuinely.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, but lowered his holoscreen, showing Thor the words. Only, there weren’t just words. There were diagrams, numbers, formulae. 

“Ah,” Thor said. 

“Precisely,” Loki said. 

Thor pressed a finger to a corner. “This doesn’t quite make sense in the light of Nal’s Treatise, does it? If you’re talking specifically about long-distance teleportation.”

Loki’s mouth fell slightly open, but he closed it quickly, looking the theorem over.

“No, you see, if you explain it like this…”

Thor smiled, then frowned as he realized something.

“Loki...why didn’t you teleport us out of the jail cell in Rivan?”

Loki paused in his explanation, as if caught out. 

Then he smiled. _Definitely_ caught out.

“It was just a bit of fun,” Loki said, smiling beatifically.

Thor groaned, shoving Loki’s shoulder. 

“Next time, brother, just _tell_ me. I can’t follow these twisted _plans_ of yours.”

“Now where would be the fun in _that_?”

Thor laughed, and Loki relaxed, and something moved through them—a moment of clear, unfettered joy.

And then it passed, and they were still, and the cold and quiet night settled over them.


	9. Chapter 9

With Thor and Loki’s arrival in Havalia, there began to be a certain air of hope around the camp. Loki was well-loved by the rebels, but Thor was beginning to worm his way into their hearts. It was after many nights spent drinking horrible wine by the fireside that the rebels began to come up with a plan. One that actually had the chance of separating them from the Empire for good.

The first phase of the plan had to do with odrium. It was dangerous, and precious, and Elari mined it exclusively from Havalia, on the labor of the locals. They were paid little, and only in Empire tokens, just enough to keep them working.

“If the moon wants independence,” Thor said, “it needs a source of income. You can sell the odrium.”

They were roasting some sort of fowl on the fire, and he slowly spun the spit, his stomach rumbling hungrily. Every day, breakfast and lunch were taken separately, the hundred or so families in the settlement living on a ration of nutrient bars and some homegrown vegetables for variety. But dinners were spent as a community, and Thor had come to enjoy the routine of it, of sitting by the fire with people he was starting to consider his friends. 

Thor imagined that if he could look through the crater of the Sinraine Mountain, the view of almost a thousand people sitting in small circles across many small fires must have looked quite splendid, like stars against the night sky.

“We could sell it,” Tala agreed. “Problem is finding a buyer.”

“This is where you come in,” Kire said. 

“Me?” Thor asked.

“You have contacts. Trade federations, alliances. People who won’t talk to us, but _will_ talk to the King of Asgard,” Aleksei said. He had even refrained from saying _King of Asgard_ like it was a curse. 

Thor thought they might have become friends of a sort.

“I have no skill in negotiations,” Thor said with a frown. “Trade was never my speciality.”

Aleksei looked at him as if he were stupid. “Loki will handle negotiations. You’re going to be there to look pretty, king.”

Well, perhaps not quite friends yet. 

Still, there was an idea, and it was forming rapidly.

They barely saved the roast from burning on the spit, so intent were they on discussing the details of gaining Havalia’s independence. 

Thor was distracted from the talk by a noise coming up behind them: Sigyn’s guffaws of laughter, followed by Loki’s more controlled murmurs. Without thinking, he cleared a space on the log for Loki, who had spent the day helping at the healing ward. 

“Is there anything left to eat?” Loki asked, raising his arms to let his hair down. Thor wondered if it was too heavy, or too warm, and if he should offer to help him cut it. “No more nutrient stew, please.”

“I saved you some fowl,” Thor said, handing Loki his plate. 

“Oh,” Loki said, and took a moment to take what Thor offered. 

“Just like the old days,” Loki said after a moment, his mouth. This had them launching into old hunting tales, a respite from the serious talks of odrium economics and revolution. 

Across the fire, Thor watched Kire and Aleksei look at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking.

\--

The ambassador from the closest Trade Alliance refused to meet them on Havalia, calling it a miserable little rock. 

(“He’s not _wrong_ ,” Biya said, after Aleksei threatened to throw the ambassador’s letter—and he _had_ sent a letter, one written on real paper with real ink—into the fire.)

Instead, Aleksei flew Thor and Loki to Nayira-45, a moon in the Goltin system. The journey took half a day—Aleksei refused to spend extra fuel on a hyperjump—and Thor and Loki emerged into an atmosphere as humid and wet as Havalia was dry. 

“I’ll wait with the ship,” Aleksei said, tired and irritable after the ride. 

“Hopefully this won’t take long,” Loki said, clasping hands with Aleksei before he and Thor made their way to town, taking a road that was surrounded on either side by wide, sprawling paddies, where people up to their knees in mud were harvesting spindly purple flowers. 

Gliders zoomed past them, carrying sometimes three or four—and once, Thor counted, eight—people, along with assorted baskets filled with produce: yellow root crops still covered in dirt, long blue stalks as thin as Thor’s finger and as tall as three Aesir, fruits that looked like grapes covered in white fur. 

Halfway through their walk, when Thor had wiped his sweating forehead for the thirteenth time, feeling like he was walking through a swamp, someone offered them a ride. Thor and Loki looked askance at each other before clambering onto the glider, where they, along with their two companions, sped into town.

Eventually, they arrived at the bafflingly-named _Oriental_ , a ritzy establishment that seemed to have nothing to do with its name. The interior was all sharp angles and glaring lights, a distant cry from the idyllic, pastoral scene outside. 

“I think I’m going to need a shower after this,” Thor said under his breath, and Loki wrinkled his nose. They sat at the bar and ordered some milky, dangerously alcoholic drink, and waited for the Ambassador from the Goltin Trade Alliance to arrive. 

Thirteen minutes later, arrive he did: a native to the moon, with skin as brown as the rich soil from which Nayira-45 grew some of the best produce in the galaxy. He also, Thor noted, had four arms.

“Sintra-62,” the man said, bowing his head slightly. “It’s an honor to welcome you to Nayira-45, Thor and Loki Odinson.”

\--

Sintra-62—”Please, call me Six,”—led them down a series of hallways and up a flight of stairs into a private room. In the center, there was a large square table, and four plush red chairs around it. 

They each took a seat: Six and Loki facing each other, and Thor to their side, leaning back into the chair with his arms crossed. 

“Let’s get straight to the point, shall we?” Six asked, smiling wide and baring his white teeth. “The Alliance is interested in purchasing odrium. How much can your little moon supply?”

Loki launched into numbers and statistics. Thor listened with half an ear, the rest of his attention marveling at the way Loki held himself in situations like this. Calm, rational, measured: Loki had the grace of a diplomat and the unrelenting spirit of a cutthroat pirate. 

The negotiations took the better part of three hours. 

“Of course,” Six said, cutting in when Loki took a moment to take a sip of water, “we don’t want to step on the Elarian Empire’s toes.”

Thor tensed. 

“I wasn’t aware that the Goltin Trade Alliance was frightened of the Empire,” Loki said, setting down his glass with a _clink_. 

“Not _frightened_ , oh no,” Six said with a laugh. “It is merely that war is such a tedious thing. And a waste of money.”

“You can be assured that Havalia will not be connected to the Elarian Empire by the time the trade deal goes through,” Loki said. 

“Ssstill,” Six said, slow and sibilant, “I’d like some reassurance that none of this will come out to them. We don’t want ourselves to get into an intergalactic conflict, yes?”

“We won’t tell if you won’t,” Loki said smoothly. “But if you want it in writing, I can draw a contract momentarily.”

Six’s eyes, golden and bright, slid to Thor. 

“I was thinking something more of, ah, a personal arrangement.”

Thor’s eyebrows furrowed. 

Beside him, Loki had gone still. 

“What did you have in mind?” Thor asked, turning to Six. 

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have a king in my bed,” Six said.

It took a moment for the sentence to kick in, and then Thor’s mouth went dry. 

He could not help but consider the proposition, outrageous as it was—it had been a long time since he’d been touched, not with intimacy. Not since...not since Loki, on Rivan. 

Thor opened his mouth to speak—what would he say? What _could_ he say? The people of Havalia were counting on this deal, and perhaps it would not be so terrible—

With a quiet _thwack_ , a knife embedded itself into the wood of the table desk, less than an inch from Six’s hand.

“The next one will go into your throat if you do not stand up and leave the room right at this moment,” Loki said, voice soft and vicious. 

Thor’s body sagged, though he did not know if it was with relief or disappointment.

Six shrugged and gracefully stood, deliberately brushing the sleeve of his robe along Thor’s shoulder as he made his way to the door.

Another knife flew, lightning-quick, and was caught in one of Six’s upper hands.

“Sloppy, Odinson,” Six said, grinning at Loki.

“ _Leave_ ,” Loki hissed.

Six laughed, and bowed.

The door to the room closed with a _snick_. 

Loki stood up and threw another knife at the door, where Six’s head would have been, outside in the hall.

“Loki,” Thor sighed. 

“How dare he,” Loki said voice trembling with anger, his shoulders hunched like an aggressive cat.

“He meant no harm,” Thor said, rubbing a hand across his face. “Besides, the people of Havalia are counting on us, and it would not have been—”

“Meant no harm?” Loki said, incredulously, though his back was still turned. “He wanted to _humiliate_ you, by asking that. He wanted to _debase_ you.”

Thor stood, his chair screeching across the floor. 

“It was not up to you to make the decision,” Thor said, as gently as he could. “I would have refused, but you didn’t have to threaten to murder him, brother.”

Thor placed a placating hand on Loki’s shoulder. It was stiff as stone. Thor put another hand on the opposite shoulder, and slowly, Loki raised a hand and put it atop his. 

Thor thought, at the back of his mind, that no one but Loki had touched him in months.

With a gentle squeeze of Thor’s hands, the tension in Loki drained out. 

He turned to Thor, his mouth still pressed into a thin line. This was, for Loki, the equivalent of a pout. Thor could not help but be endeared.

“You are no common man to trade your body so. You are a _king_ , Thor,” Loki said.

“Hardly,” Thor said easily, though it stung. “And not at all, not to these people.”

“You are to me,” Loki said, meeting Thor’s gaze. His eyes were serious, sincere, and he lifted a hand to put it on Thor’s shoulder.

“You are _my_ king, Thor. It would do you well not to forget.”

With that, Loki turned and left the room.

His knife vanished from the door as he exited, and Thor was left alone, stunned to stupidity by Loki’s words. 

\--

“I take it that didn’t go very well,” Aleksei said, when Thor and Loki returned, defeated and unsmiling. 

“He wanted to sleep with me,” Thor said. He clicked his seatbelt on.

“Thor didn’t say no,” Loki said, deadpan.

There was a strange choking sound that made Thor look up in alarm.

Aleksei, shoulders shaking, had begun to laugh. It was the first time Thor had heard it.

Beside him, Loki huffed a laugh as he sank into the seat, relaxing for the first time that day.

“He had four arms,” Thor said defensively. “You can’t blame a man for being curious.”

\--

That night, as they were getting dressed for bed, Thor shucked off his trousers in the bathing room and a card fluttered to the floor. He picked it up, eyebrows raising as the light caught it along the edges, making color bloom on its face. 

In the front was a drawing of the spindly purple plant that Thor had seen on Nayira-45. On the back it said, simply: “ _Call me_.” There was a series of symbols below that.

Thor huffed a laugh, blushing despite himself. 

He kept it, but only, he told himself, because it was nice to know he was still desirable.

\--

There was a kind of grace to anything Loki did with his whole attention. 

Thor was dropping off a pot of stew, lunch for those inside the healing ward, when he caught sight of Loki, his head bent over someone’s bed, his hands on their forehead, glowing green. One of the Tranquil, who was slowly emerging from the effects of the mind stone. But Thor had no eye for him: he could see only Loki.

His brother’s eyes were half-lidded, and his hair fell in a waterfall across the other side of his face. His lips, parted slightly, were pink, and Thor could not help but think that he knew, intimately, what they felt like.

His brother, Thor realized suddenly, was beautiful. 

“Thor!” Sigyn exclaimed, breaking him out of his stupor. He handed her the pot with a mumbled greeting, then marched himself outside, and tried to breathe. 

He spent the rest of the day working on the farmspace, filling his head with soil nutrient levels, crop rotation plans, and the steady rhythm of hard labor. 

There was much more to rebellion, Thor had learned, than simply dissent. The rebels fed themselves and snuck food into town. They cared for the elderly, the Blue-Eyes, those orphaned or widowed by mining accidents. 

The settlement at the base of the mountain was large, expansive, mostly grassland. There were a few buildings for the rebels, who numbered almost a thousand people in total. A small village.

And like any small village, they needed food. There were communal farms, which were worked on in rotating shifts, cultivated by dedicated volunteers. There were also smaller plots for personal gardens, which were offered to anyone who wanted to try their hand at growing something.

Thor had started with beans on a trellis, and they grew so thick on the vine that they’d eaten bean stew for weeks. The eggplants had gone the same way, and the squash, and the cabbages, and eventually Thor had been moved to communal farming. 

He still kept a little plot of his own, now filled with flowers, though these refused to grow as quickly as the vegetables. In fact, they seemed to resist Thor’s fertility powers entirely, which made them a challenge that he welcomed.

It felt good to contribute. Every person in the camp did something, whether it was hunting fish in the river, raising cattle, growing flowers.

“This revolution business involves much more farming than I was expecting,” Thor had joked one night, over dinner.

“It is rebellion in itself to realize the dignity of labor,” Aleksei had intoned, completely unironic, looking at Thor as if he were an idiot. “Where do you think food comes from, Odinson?”

The truth was, of course, that Thor had never had cause to think about it too much. Asgard was—had been—a city-state, with much of its farmlands in other realms, and much of its food cultivated far from the city, by people Thor had no reason to think upon except in the most abstract of terms. 

Thor had studied agriculture and trade, but had promptly forgotten much of it as soon as his tutors had deemed his knowledge sufficient. And there had always been Loki. Loki to fill in the gaps of Thor’s knowledge, Loki to memorise treatises in his stead and—damn him, Norns damn him, he could not stop thinking of Loki.

On his knees in the dirt, Thor took a deep breath and thought: I am in love with my brother.

Nothing changed. The moon spun on, and would continue to, for 36 sectors of every day and 5 days of every week. 

Wiping sweat from his brow, Thor steadied himself and tried to examine his emotions. Foremost was guilt. Another thing to add to the growing pile. There was no use dwelling on it, but the guilt would remain, an undercurrent to the happiness.

And there _was_ happiness, catching him by surprise. A surfeit of happiness, welling up inside him, impossible to contain. And along with that, a deep, painful longing. Guilt, happiness, longing. They would steady his course and keep him true. This love was not pure, and it was not good, but Thor could not bring himself to regret it. He understood himself better, now.

Nothing else was as important as Loki. Nothing, Thor realized, ever had been. 

“I love him,” Thor whispered to himself, a sky-full of birds in his chest. A flock of starlings in glorious, unpredictable movement. With every breath, they changed course, wild and teeming and always in motion. 

_I love him, I love him, I love him_.

\--

Thor walked back to the dormitory in a daze. Everything seemed to have taken on a rosy tint, and he could barely keep himself from skipping, had to clench his hands into fists and bite his lip to keep from grinning like a madman. 

He was still in a daze when he opened the door to his room, which was why it took him a moment to realize what he was seeing.

Loki, sitting on the floor underneath the open window, his hands in his lap, meditating.

He was blue. 

He was also shirtless.

Thor panicked, turning around and scrambling to shut the door behind him.

It was at this moment that Kire decided to pass by, just as Thor closed the door, then leaned against it, hurriedly crossing his arms at his chest.

“Are you all right?” Kire asked, raising an eyebrow.

Thor uncrossed his arms, then crossed them again, blurting out, “He’s, uh, he’s naked in there. Loki, I mean. I can’t go in.”

Kire blinked. “Your...husband…?”

 _Oh, right_. 

Thor cleared his throat.

The silence stretched between them,

Kire said, “Well—”

“He needs his privacy sometimes,” Thor cut in definitively, nodding his head. “You know how it is.”

“I’ve never been married,” Kire said. 

“Well,” Thor hedged. “That’s how it is.”

Loki chose that moment to open the door, making Thor stumble backwards into him.

“You can come in now, darling,” Loki said blandly, holding Thor up by the armpits. His hands were cold, but not terribly so. Thor tried not to look at him. 

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Kire said, with a small, confused smile, as Thor and Loki righted themselves and closed the door behind them. 

“You can look, you know,” Loki said, when they were alone again. He spread his arms slightly, as if to show Thor he had nothing to be afraid of.

“I don’t want to...I didn’t want to intrude,” Thor said, with a wince, though he let himself look at Loki fully, now. He looked like...Loki. Like Thor’s brother, but for the blue skin and the red eyes, the markings that twisted across his skin. 

“It’s just skin,” Loki said. He looked to the side and shrugged. “I’ve seen it thoroughly, myself.”

“Why were you…?”

“I’m trying to discover how this body handles seidr,” Loki said, extending an open palm towards Thor. “Come on, zap me.”

Thor raised an eyebrow. 

“I can take it,” Loki said. “In the absorption of magical energy, at least, Jotnar seem sturdier than Aesir.”

“I’d rather not hurt you to find out,” Thor said.

“Oh?” Loki said, with a small smile, “no murderous thoughts?”

“None at all,” Thor said, gravely.

“It is almost like a fairytale,” Loki said, dropping his outstretched arm. “The young prince opens his bedroom door and finds a monster inside.”

“You are no monster,” Thor said.

Loki smiled, as if he knew what Thor was to say next. 

“I know,” Loki said, looking to the side. His mouth twisted. “I am your _brother_.”

 _My brother,_ thought Thor, with a pang. _My beloved_. 

Loki crossed his arms with another loose shrug. “I visited it, you know. Jotunheim. During my, ah, _tenure_ as Odin.”

Thor’s eyebrows furrowed. “What did you find there?”

“Beauty,” Loki said, soft. “And treachery. A desperate people trying to eke out a difficult life.”

“Seems to be the story in a lot of places,” Thor said, closing his eye. “In a lot of places that Asgard touched, as well.”

He opened his eye when he felt a light touch upon his face: the pads of Loki’s fingers on his cheek.

“You still blame yourself,” Loki said.

“There is no one else to blame,” Thor said.

“Odin,” Loki said, then swallowed. “Me.”

“It would do no good,” Thor said.

“And blaming yourself is better?”

Thor opened his mouth, then closed it. 

Loki grasped Thor’s hands in his, Aesir pink and Jotun blue. 

“We should go back there,” Thor found himself saying, his heart beating fast. From Loki’s touch alone. 

“I do not expect we’d receive a rather warm welcome,” Loki said, with a wry smile. 

“Can’t be any worse than Rivan,” Thor said with a laugh, and flushed with delight when Loki echoed it. 

“Thank you, Thor,” Loki said, leaning close, his hand coming to rest along Thor’s neck, where the ends of his hair brushed his skin. “For the sentiment.”

There and then, Thor decided two things.

The first was that he would not stop loving Loki.

The second was that Loki must never know. It was enough only to love. It had to be.

\--

The next morning, Thor woke up with Loki spooned up in his arms, his brother’s lithe, warm body gently moving in deep sleep. 

It was not the first time they had woken up entangled together—it seemed to be a natural consequence of sharing a bed—but Thor thought it was entirely too much, in light of what he had just realized. 

And then Loki turned over, still asleep, slotting his leg between Thor thighs and tucking his face in Thor’s neck, and Thor’s mind went dangerously blank for a moment. 

He could not allow himself to enjoy this, he told himself sternly, and swiftly struck down the urge to kiss Loki’s forehead. 

Gingerly, he retrieved his arm from underneath his brother, heaving a sigh of relief as he sat up.

Loki turned again in his sleep, the blanket falling off his shoulder and exposing an expanse of pale white skin.

Thor felt himself go red as tomato, then he turned away quickly, covering his face.

Gods, this was going to be difficult. 


	10. Chapter 10

In the end, the disaster with Six was not quite the setback that Thor had feared. Other Alliances reached out, and eventually they were able to hand off the negotiations to Kire and Tala, who knew much more about the odrium trade than Thor could comprehend.

The ending of the rainy season in Havalia, and a plateau to the Empire’s demand for odrium, signaled a drop in the mining accidents, leaving the rebels to focus on the next phase of their plan: taking over the rail control station. 

“Are we sure we want to expend our energy on this?” Aleksei asked at one of their councils. “Even if we destroy the rail, Elari can send ships in less than an hour.”

“It would be a symbolic victory at most,” Sigyn said, frowning.

“That’s exactly what these people need,” Thor said, and Kire nodded. “A symbol, something to rally around. Something to hope for.”

“We should be ready for some form of response,” Biya said, brow furrowed. “A symbolic gesture is all well and good, but the people have to be protected, if Elari decides to retaliate.”

“ _When_ Elari decides to retaliate,” Aleksei said. 

“Are you saying we need guns?” Tala asked, grinning. “I think this means we need more guns.”

“Someone’s hankering to raid a military base,” Loki said under his breath, with a smile.

“In all seriousness, though,” Loki continued, raising his voice. “We can handle a retaliation.”

“What makes you say that?” Kire asked.

Loki tilted his head. “We have Thor.”

There was a beat, and then the rebels nodded. 

“But we’ll still get the guns, right?” Tala asked.

\--

They were getting the guns. 

Loki must have been practicing _hard_ on his teleportation skills, because he was able to transport four people—Thor, Tala, Aleksei, and himself—from the base of the Sinraine mountain to the edge of town, where the barracks of the military force from Elari resided. 

They landed on a soft lawn, which disoriented Thor for a moment. Grass did not grow in town; the only other place he had seen it in Havalia was in the mountain base, where the underground river flowed. For the rest of Havalia, there was simply not enough water to spare for grass. 

The group moved slowly, quietly, the full moon shining bright over them. 

Thor’s plan for this was much like his usual, so much so that Loki had laughed when Thor had explained it. Arrive at the base, find the guns, leave. 

“In and out quickly?” Loki said, and they had shared a private smile. 

Across the table, Aleksei had given Thor a significant, approving nod. 

There was a problem, of course. There always was. They had staked out the base for two weeks before this, and in each of their observations, lights were out three sectors after sunset. 

Everything should have been quiet, the soldiers asleep—but there was a light on in one of the buildings. The training hall.

They stopped short as soon as they caught sight of the eerie yellow glow pouring out of the windows. 

“Do we want to check that out?” Tala said, jerking their head towards it. They knew that the weapons were kept at the building further away, closer to the dorms. 

As if on cue, there was a strangled scream from the training hall.

“That’s definitely a trap,” Thor said. 

“Yes,” Loki said. 

Together they said, “We should check it out.”

Alekesi huffed a laugh. With a two-fingered salute, he and Tala snuck off towards the weapons.

Thor and Loki made their way to the light.

\--

There was no one in the room but a man tied to a chair, gagged, passed out. They had placed him near the entrance, where one set of lights shone upon him; the rest of the room was shadowed. 

As they got closer, Thor realized he knew who the man was. 

“It’s the nurse,” Thor said. “From the hospital.”

Loki’s lips were a thin, grim line, and he said nothing as he cut the man from his bindings, then quickly checked his pulse. 

“Alive,” Loki said. “He needs medical attention.”

“Take him back to the camp,” Thor said.

“That’s exactly what they want me to do,” Loki said. 

They shared a look. 

“Don’t die on me,” Loki said, seriously, hauling the man onto his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Thor said. 

Their gazes caught, and held, and the moment stretched. Thor’s heart thudded, so loud in his own ears he wondered if Loki could not hear it. 

Loki was the first to look away. 

“Be safe,” he said, as a blue glow lit him up. “He’s hiding in the shadows.”

Then Loki disappeared. 

Thor reached into his pocket, pulling out a card. 

Well, he thought. He might as well.

No sooner had he replaced the card into his pocket when the man in the shadows came crawling out. Metaphorically. 

Thor did not think Zatath could ever engender himself to crawl. 

“Your majesty,” Zatath drawled, and executed a deep, mocking bow. 

“If you wanted me alone,” Thor said, “you only had to ask.”

Zatath grinned. “Now where would be the fun in that?”

“That man had nothing to do with this.”

Zatath shrugged. “The Empire cares not for rodents.”

“The Empire sent you?” Thor asked, finally turning to fully face the Captain of the Guard of Rivan. 

“Me and its army,” Zatath said with a graceful shrug. “You’ll be glad to know they’ve apprehended your two, ah, friends by now. And that over thirty ships are waiting in Havalia’s airfield to blast this moon to pieces if you make one wrong move.”

“What do you want?” Thor asked, glowering. His hands itched to strangle the man. 

“It’s not about what _I_ want, Thor Odinson,” Zatath said, slick. “But about what we have to offer each other.”

“Norns, you people love to hear yourselves talk, don’t you?” Thor groaned.

Zatath’s gaze turned open, bare. “I think you will be glad to hear what I have to say.”

Thor raised an eyebrow.

Zatath gestured, and a moving image appeared between them. It took Thor a moment to understand what it was: a projection of a fierce battle. And the soldiers...Thor’s stomach churned uneasily as he took in the familiar armor, the golden sheen that could be recognized even from the monochrome display. 

“Something your friends forgot to tell you,” Zatath started, strangely soft. “More than a millennium ago, before you were born, when Asgard was in the midst of its bloodlust...soldiers were left behind on Elari after Odin the Coward gave up his conquest. It took work, but those Aesir soldiers, _our kin_ , declared their dominion over Elari, and expanded our Empire further than even Odin could. This is your _birthright_...”

Zatath dropped to one knee. “...my king.”

Thor’s mouth went dry. 

“This is my offer, Thor Odinson: a crown. A chance to rule the Empire that should have been yours by birth. I have an army that awaits your orders.”

Zatath paused dramatically.

“Together we will crush the rebel base, and restore _our people to our birthright_.”

Zatath gestured, and the projection disappeared.

He gave Thor a few moments. 

Then a few more.

When there was no response, he bit out, impatiently, “Well?”

Thor sighed. For a moment, he had allowed himself to picture it: a sister planet to Asgard, beautiful and rich, holding dominion over its portion of the galaxy. A chance to rebuild. A chance to go _home_.

He closed his eyes, swallowing away the bitterness in his mouth.

“It’s no deal, Zatath.”

“I offer you an impossible gift in exchange for a _pittance_. You have no business with those rebels; they are not your people. Yet you would sacrifice _our_ people’s happiness for their sake. For the sake of cave-dwellers and people dirtier than the soot beneath my boot.”

“Hey, all labor has dignity,” Thor said, affronted.

“ _What_?”

“Just something a friend of mine said. Zatath, understand this: your people and mine are not one. After all these centuries, Asgard has changed. We do not seek glory or conquest.”

Zatath spat on the ground. “You are as much a coward as your father was, and a failure at that. If you will not take the crown, then you must be dealt with. I have no choice but to destroy you utterly, and—”

A knife flew past Zatath’s ear. A closer look would have revealed a golden hilt engraved with two snakes, entwined. 

“Damn,” said Six. “I missed.”

And from far above them, the whirring of engines. A voice intoned: _This is the Goltin Trade Alliance. If you value your lives, back off._

“What is _he_ doing here?” Loki said, appearing beside Thor in a flash of blue light. Behind him, appearing from the same blue light, were hundreds of rebel soldiers. Miners from town. Farmers. Partners. Siblings. 

Thor cracked his knuckles, his vision going lightning-blue.

“I gave him a call.”

\--

If this were a proper story, Thor thought, he would have won the battle for the Havalians, declared his love for Loki, and then married him with all of their friends as witnesses. 

It wasn’t _quite_ that kind of story, so the truth of it was that Thor found himself run through with a bayonet in the middle of the battle, his breath leaving his lungs in a startled gasp.

The blow was not fatal, and Thor still stood—but it hurt, as Midgardians liked to say, like a _bitch_. 

“I promised you I’d see you hang,” Zatath hissed, driving the blade of his weapon further into Thor’s chest, such that he could feel his heart quail. 

Thor groaned, rolling his eyes, from pain and exasperation both. He put a hand on the bayonet, and felt warm blood. Cold metal.

“It’s too bad you’ll die like this. But I do love to see you stuck like a boar upon my—”

Lightning sparked along the bayonet, running vicious. 

Zatath fell to the ground before he could finish speaking.

“Fighting...a lightning god...with conductive metal…” Thor laughed, relieved. His head spun, and he slowly dropped to his knees.

“Thor!”

Oh, there Loki was. He was beautiful, blood covering half his face. 

Thor frowned. No, that was wrong. Thor went to reach a hand up to touch, to make sure that blood was not Loki’s, but his limbs weren’t paying attention. 

“Gods, Thor,” Loki said, strained. “Brace yourself.” 

Thor howled as Loki plunged a hand into his wound.


	11. Chapter 11

Aleksei had not been born in Havalia. He’d been born on a prosperous moon, its name now erased from his memory, and to a prosperous family that styled itself as royalty. Chosen by the Goddess. And it had no qualms about taking what it needed from its own people, with force if necessary. Cruelty was a way of life, and Aleksei had been trained in it from birth—but he had no skill in it. Soft-hearted and weak, his father said. 

Disowned after leading a failed rebellion, Aleksei had left his home and never looked back. With nothing but the clothes on his back, he had clung to the promise of a new life on a new moon, following the new rail line built by the illustrious Elarian Empire. 

Hope dissolved quickly, like sugar on the tongue, with not even the memory of sweetness left behind. 

Aleksei had eventually come to understand: the Empire needed no Infinity Stone to control its people, not when it could do so with fear and brutality. But the tighter you held on to the reins, the stronger a horse would buck, and someday, it would throw off its rider altogether. 

Aleksei fought and bled and killed for that day. 

All of this to say: Aleksei hated royalty of any kind. Despised them. Loathed them. Would sooner throw himself into a shipment of odrium and set himself ablaze than make peace with them.

None of which mattered as he found himself standing vigil by the king of Asgard’s bedside while the rest of Aleksei’s people celebrated their victory. 

Loki had been distant. 

Aleksei had to admit he’d been frightened, then, of the sheer ferocity with which Loki had guarded Thor’s body as he healed him during the battle. He did not know whether he preferred that Loki—half-mad, desperate, running himself dry of magic—or the one who walked like a wraith around the settlement and hadn’t visited Thor at the healing rooms.

The one who had all but disappeared, only flitting in and out of the corner of Aleksei’s eyes when he was too busy to pay attention.

Perhaps he could not bear to see his husband in such a state. Aleksei would not force him. For three days, while Thor did not wake, Aleksei watched over him. It was easy work, because all Thor did was sleep. Aleksei spent most of his time tending to the wounded, feeding the sick, conversing with Sigyn late into the night. 

The first night in the healing ward, a golden sheen, difficult for the eye to pin down, had enveloped Thor’s body. 

It was light as dust, seeming only to appear if one did not look at it head-on. 

Aleksei left Thor to it. Perhaps this was something that all Aesir did. 

On the third day, Thor woke up, and the golden light around him seemed to condense. And then it dispersed, floating up into the air like starlight. 

Aleksei blinked, and then Thor was struggling to get out of bed, and had to be shoved down.

“Loki—” Thor gasped, and Aleksei winced, and said nothing.

And then, after gulping down two cups of water, Thor rasped wetly. “Did we win?”

“We won,” Aleksei said. “Loki is...he hasn’t come.”

Thor’s expression shuttered, and he visibly deflated. 

At least, Aleksei thought, as Thor sank back into the bed, this meant he would rest. 

When Aleksei returned to the healing ward the next day, he found Loki sitting on a chair next to his husband’s bed, reading from a holo-pad. 

Thor was asleep, resting on his side, his eyepatch like a silver coin beside his head. Light struck it in the oddest ways, and Aleksei wondered, not for the first time, what it would feel like to wear it.

Aleksei said to Loki, “You used to talk about a man, when you first came to us. A man you loved.”

Loki looked up at Aleksei, eyes unreadable. He set his holo-pad aside and put his hands on his lap. 

“Yes,” he said, softly.

“I’m glad you’ve found him. Don’t make the mistake of losing him, Silvertongue.”

Loki’s eyes widened, and then he turned away, gazing at Thor.

“And when will you tell Kire, Leksi?”

Aleksei laughed under his breath, his heart aching pleasantly. “He already knows.” 

Loki smiled, turning back towards him. “Then I guess we’ll see you in Rivan.”

\--

They had won. While Thor slept, the Empire had been sent running with its tail between its legs, a deal had been struck with the Goltin Trade Alliance, and the people of Havalia were preparing to run their first elections within the week. 

When Thor awoke the second time, it was with great relief that he found Loki sitting beside him, long legs tucked into a too-small chair, weaving flowers from a large basket. 

“It’s Midsummer in three days,” Loki said, not looking up as Thor sat up. He held up what he had in his hands: a wreath woven through with marigolds, amaranths, oleanders. 

“Did you know?” Thor asked. “About the...about Elari. About how our kin created the Elarian Empire.”

“ _Your_ kin,” Loki said softly. “And I had my suspicions. Kire must know as well. Perhaps Aleksei. I don’t know about the others.”

“Why did they let me stay,” Thor said, rough.

“Because they’re good people,” Loki said.

“I don’t deserve it.”

“Leave it,” Loki said, sharp. “The guilt, brother. It will fester inside you and ruin you. Let it go.”

Thor swallowed, thinking of Loki, and loving him, and the quiet pulse of guilt that followed on the heels of that love.

“Six apologized to me,” Loki said, apropos of nothing. His mouth twitched upward. “He said he did not know we were wed. Said he thought we were brothers.”

It was a relief to laugh, though it sent a sharp pain running down Thor’s chest. 

Thor turned on his side, and put his hand on Loki’s knee. Loki returned the gesture, putting his hand atop Thor’s, and squeezing gently. Then, he placed the flower wreath lightly upon Thor’s head.

Thor touched the wreath gingerly, then smiled. “Isn’t it too early to be wearing these?”

Loki shrugged. “A king should have a crown.”

“I do not think I should be king anymore,” Thor said.

“A wise decision,” Loki said. He bent down and kissed Thor’s forehead, a blessing. “But I told you. You will always be my king, Thor.”

Thor stretched his arms as they walked out of the healing ward, Loki close by in case Thor decided he needed to rest. But the tiredness did not come. Thor felt energized, even giddy. 

It seemed to have affected the rest of the settlement as well, and Aleksei did not even comment on Thor’s flower crown. Thor passed it on to Sigyn, who passed it on to Tala, and on and on it went until it ended up on Aleksei’s head. He did not, as Thor expected, throw it into the fire, but sat with it all day, until Kire came back from his affairs in town, and Aleksei bestowed upon him the crown, along with a kiss on the cheek.

Kire, rough as he was, smiled softly, turned his face, and kissed Aleksei properly.

Life, Thor thought, could be so sweet. 

That night, dinner was filled with talk of the parts of the battle Thor had missed, and he listened with great enjoyment to Sigyn’s re-enactments. 

At a certain point, this led to him and Loki telling stories of their own battles on Asgard, and then, as the night wore on, to answering questions about their relationship, which they had both tried their best to avoid thus far. 

Their victories and the miner’s swill loosened their tongues to an almost dangerous degree.

“I grew up close to the crown,” Loki said, with a sheepish shrug. The lie went down easy with the expression on Loki’s face, self-deprecating, as if he were embarrassed to admit it to these people. 

“Close as brothers, you could say.” Thor couldn’t help himself, but he took a gulp of his drink to stop himself from saying anything else. 

Loki did not even glare at him for that. He looked down at his clasped hands and said, softly, “Thor has always been there. He knows me. Every terrible thing I’ve done.”

Thor opened his mouth to protest, but Loki pushed on:

“He knows every part of me, and he loves me anyway.”

There were a few murmurs from those gathered around the fire with them, some raised drinks. The world narrowed down to a point as Thor grasped for a reply. 

“Of course I do,” Thor found himself saying. There was nothing else to say.

“Of course,” Loki repeated, sounding distant.

And then: fireworks in the sky, and a burst of laughter from the children, and the moment was broken. 

Thor clasped Loki’s shoulder as they stood to watch the spectacle, and Loki offered him a tight, but genuine smile. 

\--

“The miners really know how to throw a party, don’t they?” Thor said, closing the door behind them. Gods, he was tired. He couldn’t wait to sleep in a proper bed again. Even looked forward to Loki stealing most of the blankets.

He was humming under his breath, some song that the men had taught him, when Loki said: “I think you should go.”

Thor’s head went up slowly, confused. His brain felt muddled, and the song he was singing petered off, something about a new dawn. About the sun shining.

“Go where?” he asked, and tried not to wince at the slur in his voice. He was sobering rapidly, now, in any case. 

Loki turned around to face him, his hands clasped behind his back, and Thor thought of that day months ago, on the Statesman, Loki coming to his feet to stand at attention when Thor entered his room. The way he wore his court manners like armor. 

They had not been so formal with each other since that day. 

Thor had forgotten, somehow, that Loki could be like this as well. 

“Back to the Statesman. Back to your people, Thor. Our work is done.” 

Thor nodded, his brow furrowing. “All right. We can go as soon as you like.”

“I will not be going with you.”

“Brother—”

“Do not. Call me that.”

The words were bitten off, harsh, and Loki’s entire body seemed to go rigid.

Thor’s mind stumbled, spun. He could not grasp what was happening. 

“You are my brother,” he said, stupidly.

“I am not your brother, and I am not your husband, and I am tired of _pretending_ , Thor,” Loki said, his voice viciously measured. He shrugged, a jerking motion. “I’m afraid I’m not a very good liar after all.”

Loki took in a breath. “A lifetime of dishonesty and nothing to show for it.”

 _I love you,_ Thor thought desperately. He remembered his elation at the realization, as if his heart could not be entirely contained by the cage of his ribs. Only earlier today, he’d been so happy. 

( _You were happy_ , Loki had said, _so everyone must have been_.)

It was selfish, he knew. But the words left Thor’s mouth before he could stop himself.

“Is it truly so difficult?” Thor asked. “To have to pretend to love me?”

He meant for the words to sting. 

Loki met his eyes, letting his gaze linger. 

Softly, deliberately, Loki said, “It is excruciating.”

The words rolled over him like the tide, suffocating. He took a step backwards, and then another. Thor felt for the door behind his back, anything solid.

He opened his mouth to speak, gaping like a fish on land, and what came out was: “The man you love. The one Aleksei spoke of, in the healing ward. Did he survive Ragnarok?”

Loki’s body jerked up, as a puppet tugged by a string. 

He stared at Thor with wide eyes.

“Please,” Thor said, “just tell me this.”

“Yes,” Loki said, still staring at Thor. 

“Then I hope you tell him,” Thor said. “I wish for nothing but happiness for you, Loki.”

The emotions that crossed Loki’s face were impossible to read, but his eyes grew very wide. 

There was a sort of hunger to his gaze.

Before Loki could speak, an alarm rang out.

This was different from all ones Thor had heard before. It was almost mournful, that low, humming wail. 

Before him, Loki went pale. 

The next words Loki spoke drew a chill down Thor’s spine.

“He’s here.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one's a short one but the next one will be up within the week 🌟

Havalia was on fire. 

It drove a blade through Thor’s chest, almost driving him to his knees. 

He thought: it is happening again.

He thought: I cannot save anyone.

“Snap out of it,” Loki hissed, grabbing Thor by the shoulders and spinning him around. “I can send them somewhere safe but I need you to delay him.”

“Who?” Thor choked, though he already knew. 

Amidst the screams and the sound of blaster fire was the incongruously soft tread of a being that did not care what havoc he wrought. Who reveled in it, even. 

Thor turned his head as he approached.

The Mad Titan. 

Slowly, people were starting to disappear, swallowed up by blue light. Loki had vanished from sight as well, but his magic announced his presence: he was delivering people to safety.

Thor straightened his posture. He felt lightning wreathe him, and emerged in his armor, walking towards where Thanos now stood with his sword digging into the ground, hands clasped at its hilt. Watching, benevolent, as the scene before him unraveled. 

Thor grit his teeth, waiting for Thanos to make his move, buying the Havalians as much time as he could. But Thanos did not move. 

He stood still as a mountain, implacable as one. Thor had imagined this meeting for a long while. After hearing how he had caught and used Loki, Thor had imagined he would find Thanos himself, to kill him for hurting his brother. 

How convenient for the Titan to come to him instead. 

Thor breathed in, deep and slow, and felt storm clouds rumble overhead. The sky darkened, and the air grew thick. Thor felt his veins turn electric, his vision going blue. There was a saying that lightning never struck the same place twice. This was false. 

From the hole on the top of the Sinraine Mountain, bolts of lightning began to fall upon the Mad Titan.

At that moment, Thanos raised his hand.

The gauntlet gleamed. Golden for a moment, and then purple, overtaking the blue from Loki’s seidr. 

When the lightning struck, Thanos remained standing, his hand open—and he  _ caught _ the lightning, drawing the current of power and redirecting the raw seidr of the God of Thunder—

—straight back towards him. 

There was no way to evade it that would not hurt anyone else, and no time to think.

Thor screamed as the lightning hit him, his body a conductor for his own power, burning him within and without. 

Only then did Thanos move, picking his way languidly through the dead bodies that Thor had not managed to save. 

His foot caught Thor in the chest, sending him flying across the ground. 

“Do you really want to play this game, little one?” Thanos said, picking Thor up by the head. The gauntlet burned, impossibly cold and hot at the same time, and Thor screamed.

And then Thanos began to squeeze.

Thor screamed again, his one eye wide open.

“All right, STOP!”

Loki materialized out of thin air, holding his hands out.

“I’ll give you what you want,” Loki said. His face was grim. He had not dressed himself in armor, and was still in the rough pants and linens of the Havalians. He looked mortal. Breakable. Facing the man who had the power to crush Thor’s head in his hand. 

“Don’t,” Thor rasped, “don’t give in.”

Loki did not look at him. 

“I assure you, brother, the sun will shine on us again,” Loki said, oddly calm. And then he reached out his hand, and revealed the Tesseract.

Thanos laughed, and squeezed Thor’s head again for good measure, sending a burst of pain ringing through Thor’s entire body. 

Thor was fighting to remain conscious now, and he clung to Loki’s voice to stay awake.

“I offer you...my undying...fidelity…”

Then Loki’s gaze flitted to him, for the barest of moments.

Thor looked up. 

Loki crushed the Tesseract in his hand, flooding them all with blue light. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter comes with some incredible art commissioned from aima015 on twitter!! please check it out [here](https://twitter.com/aima015/status/1206173218240790530?s=21) ❤️❤️❤️

“And I offer to you…”

Thor could not die here.

“...my undying…”

Loki would _not_ allow it.

“...fidelity.”

The space stone was a curious thing. Loki had spent the better part of the past few months on Havalia studying its power. Learning how to use it. Exploring its limits versus his own. 

And what Loki had realized was this: it did not matter so much how powerful an Infinity Stone was, as much as how powerful its wielder was.

And Loki was very powerful indeed. 

The Tesseract had unfolded for Loki like a well-loved, well-worn book laid flat. And Loki had read of its contents until his head was swimming, his seidr singing. 

Loki knew how to wield a weapon that could manipulate space and time itself.

And that was before he’d even opened its case. 

It might have been overkill, Loki thought vaguely, in the brief moment he had before he was consumed completely by the raw power of the space stone. 

Unmaking Thanos was an afterthought: like this, Loki could see every thread of Thanos’s being, and it was a moment’s work to unspool him, ripping the threads apart until the Mad Titan dissolved into nothing but dust. 

Seidr, weaving, creation, unmaking.

Loki had been at this since before he could walk.

_And the bastard had hurt Thor._

He allowed himself one moment of elation that Thanos was dead, truly dead, unable to hurt him or anyone else any longer, before the realization of what he had done slammed into him.

Loki grit his teeth, stumbling backwards as the sheer power of the Tesseract began to burn him. He stripped himself of his Aesir skin, but even his Jotun body could barely handle the power. He was going to lose his hand, at the very least. 

He absorbed as much of the space stone as he could, going to his knees from the effort. 

But still, he burned. 

Loki realized, with the sense of calm that came with hopeless, helpless panic, that he was being unmade. 

The threads that kept him together were being unspooled, slowly at first, but getting faster by the second. And Loki had so many frayed threads.

_Unwanted as a babe._

_Lonely as a child._

_Unloved by his father._

_Lied to by his mother._

_Shadowed by his brother._

_Thor._

Thor, oh Gods, that was the last thread at the very core of Loki that still held fast, bright and shining, golden. 

Loki loved him, and Thor would never know. 

Thor would live the rest of his life thinking that Loki had wanted him to leave, had wanted him gone, that Loki had never loved him—oh, it was _agonizing_ , worse than any kind of pain Loki had ever experienced. 

Worse than the curse of his own existence.

Worse even than the pain of being unmade.

 _It’s all right_ , Loki thought. _It’s over now._

He closed his eyes.

“No!”

Loki gasped awake, screaming himself hoarse at the unbearable pain of each of his molecules being pulled apart. The force that held a body together was stronger than the gravity holding planets in orbit, and he was being torn apart, atom by atom.

But someone was holding him together.

“It’s all right, brother,” Thor was saying. On his knees, he was embracing Loki. His arms were strong, like they always had been. “It’s all right, Loki. It’s all right, I’m here now.”

It was one of the most basic laws of nature: no two substances could occupy the same space at the same time. 

But when Thor’s hand closed around the Tesseract, both of them, for the briefest of moments, felt their souls slip into each other. 

And Loki, he _understood._

With the Tesseract shared between them, they were glorious. 

“Oh,” they whispered together.

The universe unfolded before them.

In another life, they are brothers and kings of Asgard together. Their shared coronation is a beautiful spectacle. They live their lives out in peace and love.

In another life, they are enemies, living only to clash blades. Wherever they go, they leave battlefields in ruin.

In another life, Thor swings his hammer down over Loki’s head.

In another life, Loki slits Thor’s throat with his dagger.

In another life, they are old men, sitting by a fire, their hands held between them, their souls finding relief at the same time. 

A hundred thousand lifetimes passed through them, and together they picked out the one that shone the brightest. 

The one that said, simply: _home_. 

\--

Thor woke up to the sound of running water. 

He sat up, his hand and Loki’s still tangled together, the Tesseract, quiescent now, still cupped between their palms, and realized they were sitting in the river that ran through the Sinraine Mountain. 

Beside him, Loki was stirring. 

“I love you,” Thor said, as Loki sat up. 

“I know,” said Loki, and kissed him, finally. 

Thor moaned softly, shivering, as his brother slipped his tongue into his mouth, hot and demanding, then shoved himself into Thor’s lap, pressing their bodies together. 

“Gods, Loki, I wanted, I wanted for so long,” Thor panted, as Loki released his mouth and started kissing his neck.

“Not as long as I have,” Loki said, broken, and hauled him up for a kiss again.

Heat bloomed in every part of Thor’s body, and he hauled Loki closer, impossibly tighter, groaning into his mouth and sliding his hands up and down his back, desperate to touch him. Desperate to be touched by him.

His eye burned, and he realized he was crying as he cupped Loki’s jaw and tilted their mouths into a better angle. It felt like a miracle to simply touch him, to have the weight of him so close. 

“All this time,” Loki was saying, soft and wet, “all this time I was so afraid—”

“You’ll never be afraid again,” Thor said, voice close to a growl. “Not if I can help it.”

A sharp whistle jerked them out of their heated embrace.

Aleksei was standing on the bank, his arms crossed, watching them with a mixture of disgust, approval, and awe. 

“Good of you to join us in the land of the living,” he called out. “And thanks for saving our lives.”

“Fuck off,” Thor said happily, while Loki, ever practical, and so intelligent, and Thor’s beloved, competent, wonderful brother, used the Tesseract to teleport them somewhere private.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please take a look at the updated tags!
> 
> this fic is now finished, thank you so much to everyone who came along for the ride 💖
> 
> this chapter comes with art from the brilliant [questionartbox](https://questionartbox.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, commissioned by my partner 💕

Thor did not understand how he had kept himself from kissing Loki all this time. 

Even with some very (very) pressing concerns—namely, his cock, swelling in his trousers—it was impossible to stop. 

Loki, on top of him, seemed to have no intention of stopping, in any case, and so the two of them gleefully, passionately kept at it, mouths pressed hot together, sucking and biting and nipping at each other. 

At one point, Thor found himself divested of a shirt, with Loki’s chest pressed up against his, and oh, _that_ was very good as well, the heat of Loki pressed up all along his body, his skin soft and his body firm, strong, alive. 

Thor backed himself up against the wall at the head of the bed and boldly reached around to cup Loki’s ass with his hands—and Loki moaned, head dropping onto Thor’s shoulder, where he delightedly set his teeth as Thor drew him into straddling his lap.

“ _Brother_ ,” Loki whimpered softly, wrapping his arms around Thor’s neck and head tilted down towards him, eyes closed, as if he could not face the force of his own desire. 

“Husband,” Thor murmured in reply, stroking a flushed cheekbone and watching it take a deeper hue beneath his touch.

“I want,” Loki panted, and those brilliant green eyes opened, blown wide with need, “please. I want you.”

“You have me,” Thor promised, stroking his hands up Loki’s chest, marveling at the work of silk and sinew that was his brother’s beautiful body. How wonderfully his bones held him together. 

Thor ran the pads of his thumbs across Loki’s nipples, watching hungrily as Loki squirmed, panting open-mouthed and swollen-lipped.

“Can I?” Thor asked, running his hands down Loki’s sides and settling on his waist, where his trousers sat low, and then lower, to where his thighs framed his cock beneath his clothes. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Loki hissed, and held himself still as Thor worked his trousers down, exposing more of his skin, and the slender, upright line of his needful cock. 

Thor wasted no time in wrapping his hand around Loki’s cock, leaning up to kiss his cheek as he shuddered in Thor’s lap, his hips starting to work into Thor’s fist.

Loki’s movements were jerky, uncoordinated, as if he could not help himself; he chased Thor’s touch and let broken noises spill out of his mouth, loud and unheeding, his usual composure completely eclipsed by his pleasure. 

Thor, for his part, could only watch, slack-jawed, and keep his hand loose and tight in turn, to please his brother as best he could. 

“ _Brother_ ,” Loki whimpered, “brother, brother, brother, my brother, oh, Thor, oh.” 

“Gods, Loki,” Thor moaned softly, “if you could only see yourself right now. My beautiful brother. We were fools for denying ourselves this for so long.”

“Fools,” Loki agreed, nodding frantically, “oh, please.” And he spread his legs wider and began to fuck Thor’s fist with abandon, covering his mouth with his hands to muffle the worst of his cries as they began to crescendo. 

Thor lifted his other hand to his mouth, suckled intently upon two of his fingers, and reached below Loki to tease the furl of his ass.

Loki jerked, as if lightning-struck, his spine going straight, and then he was coming. 

Thor peppered kisses across his brother’s face as Loki came down from his orgasm, his body caving into Thor’s. He pulled his legs in and let himself be cradled, like a babe, in Thor’s arms.

“How long?” Thor asked. Couldn’t help himself. They could have had this all along, and came so close to not having it at all.

Loki, with his face buried in Thor’s neck, shrugged.

“A long time,” he said, soft.

Thor swallowed.

“Before—before you fell?”

“Before I fell,” Loki said. He looked up, and gently tilted Thor’s face towards him. “Before I even knew the words for it, I longed for you.”

Thor drew a sharp breath, his eyes falling shut. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I should have—I should have paid attention. Should have—”

“No,” Loki said, firm. “None of that, now. I would not waste any more time on regrets, brother...beloved.”

“Beloved,” Thor whispered, and had to lean down to kiss the sad, soft line of Loki’s mouth. 

Loki hummed as they pulled apart, and then he smiled, wicked, and palmed the half-forgotten bulge in Thor’s trousers. 

“ _Nngh_ ,” Thor said, his eyelids fluttering. 

“I’ve been told my mouth is very good,” Loki said casually, shimmying out of Thor’s embrace and arranging himself between Thor’s thighs.

“Who has been telling you that,” Thor demanded, frowning.

“Oh,” Loki said breezily, undoing Thor’s trousers, “you know. Men, women. Beings of indeterminate gender. On Sakaar they were very—”

“Loki,” Thor growled.

“Hm?” Loki smiled beatifically, and his hand reached in to coax Thor’s cock into the cold air.

“You don’t have to make me jealous,” Thor said, stroking Loki’s hair out of his face. “No one has ever compared to you.”

Loki blinked, then flushed, and said nothing, but instead took Thor’s cock into his mouth with a soft moan. 

Thor gasped, his hands automatically coming to rest on Loki’s head, his mouth falling open at the sudden onslaught of pleasure. 

“I’m not,” Thor panted, “oh, Norns, I’m not going to last—”

Loki pulled off, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and said, “Sharing a bed with you was awful. I wanted your cock in my mouth every morning.” And then returned to his business.

“That—you—” Thor babbled, insensate. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, thunking against the wall, and said, “You—you can have it. Whenever you want.”

“Mmm, generous,” Loki said, around the head of Thor’s cock. His tongue lapped at the slit, back and forth, side to side, forming patterns that Thor could not comprehend. 

“Loki, please,” Thor choked out, close to sobbing. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes and he could only spread his legs and beg Loki for more.

Loki hummed, then took Thor’s cock all the way to the hilt. He moved sinuously, up and down and up again, an unbroken rhythm. 

Loki’s ministrations would have been enough to have Thor coming, easily—his mouth really _was_ very good, as were his hands, and his throat. But it was the full vision of him on his knees, his hair falling across his face, the way his hand kept coming up to tuck his hair behind his ear, the curve of his ass in the air, that made Thor feel as if he had been granted something impossible. Like something out of a dream, made flesh.

This is my _brother_ , Thor thought, in a haze of pleasure. My brother, sucking my cock, looking like the very picture of debauchery. Norns, help me. 

“I’m going to—” Thor gasped, “fuck, brother, I’m—”

Loki pulled off with a wicked grin, his eyes glimmering with mischief, and Thor’s hips jerked into the air.

“Does it please you, my Lord, to have your errant younger brother on his knees like this for you?” Loki asked, smiling his cheshire cat smile, his tongue tracing lines up and down the length of Thor’s cock. 

“I—if—if you enjoy it—”

“Oh, I do,” Loki murmured. 

“Whatever you want,” Thor said helplessly, “whatever you want, you can have it.”

“I want you to fuck my throat,” Loki said. “I want you to ruin me. Punish me.”

Thor’s eyes flew open.

“Not—punishment,” he said, “I would, I would give you pleasure, beloved.”

Loki laughed, “Sometimes, brother, they are one and the same. But that is a conversation for another time.”

“Now stop holding back and let me serve you properly, my king.”

Needless to say, Thor did not last long after that.

\--

Midsummer on Havalia, Thor realized, meant two things: getting drunk, and getting married. 

Kire, rough and homely, and Aleksei, luminous as a Valkyrie, were wed on Midsummer’s Eve, along with a few of their friends. The couples placed wreaths on each other’s heads, shared a cup of wine—the good stuff, brought out only for the occasion—and struck two stones together, creating a spark. It was a beautiful ceremony, officiated by Tala, and Thor could not help but feel a pang of longing. 

He wished that for himself and Loki. 

Loki seemed to understand, because as the drinking began, he placed himself squarely in Thor’s lap and glared away anyone who had anything to ask about it. 

“Now aren’t you two just the loveliest birds,” Biya said, sitting on the grass in front of them. For tonight’s celebrations, an expansive circle of logs had been placed around a large bonfire, with enough space for dancing. Sigyn and Aleksei were doing a funny little number that involved a lot of kicking. Thor made a mental note to tease Aleksei about it in the morning. 

“Thor’s sulking,” Loki said, “and I’m making it better.” There was a note of smug satisfaction in Loki’s voice.

“You _are_ making it better,” Thor said earnestly, tucking Loki closer. 

“Why the sulk, dear?” Biya asked. “It’s Midsummer! Drink those woes away, eh?”

“Well,” Thor said, and took a swig of his drink. How to explain?

“He’s remembering our sham of a wedding on Rivan,” Loki said, making Thor choke.

“It wasn’t...well, it could have been better,” Thor said.

It could have happened at all, he thought to himself.

Biya frowned thoughtfully, stroking her chin. “You know...why don’t we see if Tala can’t do anything about that?”

Thor sat up straighter, keeping Loki balanced on his lap. “You mean they can…?”

“A renewal of vows shouldn’t be a problem, should it?” Loki asked, sounding breathless. 

“I don’t see why it would,” Biya said, and took them both by the hand to Tala. 

The people of Havalia danced as the fire roared and the stars shone over them, and Thor and Loki knelt and bowed their heads under Tala’s hands, then exchanged wreaths and shared a cup of wine. 

It was the sweetest thing Thor had ever tasted. 

Then Thor took one stone that Tala held out, and Loki took the other, and they brought them close and struck them against each other, creating, for the briefest moment, a spark of light.

The renewal of a vow, Tala said with a knowing look, encompassed more than just marriage: it was an affirmation of all the times they had chosen each other throughout their lives. 

Throughout their many, many lives, Thor thought, thinking of the Tesseract again. 

Something passed between them as they knelt there and Tala spoke the simple words of binding over them: _As the flower comes from the seed and the wine from the fruit, and the light from the earth, so shall love come from you, through you, by you, for all your days_. 

When they stood up, they were wed. 

\--

“ _Husband_ ,” Loki gasped, throwing his head back as Thor eased his cock inside of him. 

“Gods, I will never tire of you calling me that,” Thor groaned, eyes fluttering shut as he entered Loki, sinking into the tight heat of his body. 

“My husband,” Loki breathed, “mine.” His eyes were wide in the dark, almost candescent.

Thor growled, pulling out an inch and slamming in, repeating the motion until Loki hands turned into claws on Thor’s back, holding him closer and scrabbling away at the same time. 

“Let’s try something,” Thor murmured, and eased Loki’s hands off his back, pinning them instead over his head. 

Loki lay almost completely still, only the quick rise and fall of his chest, bird-like, indication that he was still breathing. 

Then Thor _pushed_ , extending Loki’s body, baring him to the air and Thor’s gaze.

“ _Stay_ ,” Thor ordered, as Loki tugged and squirmed, and finding no give, finally went pliant.

“ _Brother_ ,” Loki whispered, almost unbearably meek. 

Thor’s heart thudded. His hand hands tightened around his brother’s wrists, and he began, slowly and steadily, to fuck him. 

Loki’s body arched to meet him, cries spilling from his mouth: _Thor, Thor, please, husband, brother, please_ —

“You wanted me to use you,” Thor said, unable to tear his gaze from Loki’s face, the helpless, open curve of his mouth, the indent of his teeth on his lower lip, where even that had failed to keep his cries in check. 

“Does this please you, my love?” Thor asked, holding Loki’s wrists with one hand now, the other sliding down to hook itself under one of Loki’s knees, lifting it up and pushing it against his torso. 

“If—if it pleases _you_ , my king,” Loki breathed. 

“All of you pleases me,” Thor said, and watched how just those words affected Loki more than the cock in his ass and his body being manhandled for Thor’s pleasure.

Loki’s mouth opened in a wordless cry, and tears began to leak from his eyes.

“Thor,” he sobbed softly. 

“I’m here, darling,” Thor whispered.

“I want—I want—” 

“Tell me what you want, sweetling,” Thor murmured.

Loki, face flushed, bit the swell of his lip and shut his eyes.

Thor puzzled for a moment, then tried, gently, “Would you like to fill me with child, love?”

Loki gasped, his entire body shuddering. He turned his face to the side, and said nothing.

Slowly, Thor began to move again. “You kept telling people. How I was with child. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Would you like to see me swollen with your seed? Bearing you an heir, brother?”

Loki keened, twisting in Thor’s grasp, fucking down onto his cock, his hands fluttering restlessly where they were still pinned above his head. 

“Imagine me,” Thor whispered, one hand wandering down Loki’s belly to wrap around his cock, “walking all over Midgard, my belly full and round, so everyone can see how well you take care of me. How well your cock _serves_ me.”

With a cry, Loki’s body jerked, and his cock sputtered, dripping come all over his belly. 

Thor groaned, and spent in reply. 

In the next moment, he found himself on his back, Loki pinning him down, eyes bright and intense.

Payback, Thor thought happily. 

\--

“So,” Thor said, as they lay in each other’s arms, sweat cooling from their bodies, “the Tesseract.”

Loki tensed in his arms, and immediately Thor missed the languid lay of his body along his. 

“Peace, brother,” Thor murmured, running a hand down his back.

“Did you know I had it?” Loki asked.

“I had an inkling,” Thor said.

“So you expected it of me,” Loki said.

“Peace,” Thor said again, running his fingers along Loki’s spine, feeling him give into the urge to relax again. “I meant no slight, love.”

“I know,” Loki breathed. 

“I only meant to ask, can it take us to our people?”

“You would have me return with you?”

“If you wish to,” Thor said. He swallowed, and said, “You know I cannot stay here.”

“I know,” Loki said. And then, “Truly, I could not bear to be apart.”

Thor exhaled, then inhaled, nodding. “I could not bear it myself.”

“But could you bear having your brother as your lover, by your side? The things people would say…” 

Loki’s mouth turned down at the thought, a rueful little grimace that Thor had to kiss better. 

Against Loki’s mouth, Thor murmured: “The only thing I could _not_ bear, brother, is anyone thinking you were not my deepest, truest love. I would have you know...I _must_ have you know that I regret none of this.”

Loki hummed, pleased, turning in Thor’s arms to kiss his neck.

“None of it?” he teased. “Nothing at all?”

“Maybe one thing,” Thor said, smiling.

“Oh?” Loki said. 

“My only regret,” Thor said, “is that I did not have the chance to court you properly.”

Beside him, Loki laughed, and Thor smiled. It felt good to hear his brother laugh. 

“I am not a maid in need of such attentions, brother,” Loki said. 

“And yet I would give them to you. If only for you to know how ardently I love you.”

“Thor,” Loki said softly, “I know.”

“Good,” Thor said, closing his eye.

“Besides,” Loki continued, “if anyone is in need of courting here, it is you, brother.”

Thor smiled, turning to face Loki, eye still closed, trying to listen for his breathing. “If that is your way of offering, my love, then I graciously accept.”

“Oh, you’ve asked for it now, brother.”

“I did,” said Thor. “I do.”

\--

Thor had not expected his own goodbyes to be so difficult.

Loki had a harder time of it, clinging fiercely to each of his friends in turn, but it was not easy on Thor either. 

Even Aleksei gave him a hug, though it came with a threat to take care of Loki, or Aleksei would know where to find them.

And then Kire, Sigyn, Biya, Tala, and a few others, many of them children, that Thor had made friends with at the settlement. 

“You come back to visit, you hear me?” Tala said, shaking Thor’s shoulder.

“I promise,” Thor said.

When the goodbyes were done, there was nothing left but to lace their hands together and let the Tesseract take them away.

\--

They held elections at the end of their first year on Midgard, and Thor and Loki gave up their royal titles and settled into a cozy cottage in the little fishing village of New Asgard, making periodic trips to where they were needed in the world: for mischief, for growing things, for fighting off villainy. 

And Loki made good on his word: on Midgard, Thor was courted as earnestly and eagerly as any maiden. 

Trinkets from his brother began to pile up on the table they kept in the corner of the room, along with baubles accumulated from a life shared: the teeth and horns of fierce beasts, flowers spelled to keep from dying, love notes written in Loki’s sprawling hand. Bills, those pesky Midgardian inventions, little round coins, too many pens, hair ties. 

And tucked into a corner: a little stone, smooth and round as a river rock, glowing blue when the light hit it just right.

\--

**Author's Note:**

> Fic is near-finished and will update every week or so. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are deeply appreciated :) Please feed this starving author!
> 
> Catch me on twitter @sendaraven :D


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